


Love Triangle

by kuhekabir



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dubious Consent, Happy Ending, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Love Triangles, M/M, Multi, Unrequited Love, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-30
Updated: 2012-12-11
Packaged: 2017-11-19 22:04:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/578137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuhekabir/pseuds/kuhekabir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Love Triangle (or how fate is a manipulative bitch, not allowing anyone to get in between her and a happy every after)</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Stranded in Pete's World, doesn’t provide him with the happy ending he'd expected. When he runs into an old friend, his world view is challenged in new, unexpected ways. What will happen when destiny comes calling again? Can the universe survive a love triangle between Captain Jack, the half-human Doctor and the Master?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I chose not to put the character death warning up front because I am not sure it fully applies. However, this is a story about Ten Duplicate. And in order for the story to unfold, Ten Original dies. The death scene is so short, you might miss it if you blink. This is why I didn't use the character death warning because this is an AU story between Ten Duplicate (human version), the Master (alternate reality) and Jack.
> 
> But please do consider yourself warned in case reading about Ten Original dying is an issue for you.
> 
> Also, there is highly dubious consent in the story. The sex is also graphic in a way. There is no rape, but please consider yourself warned if highly dubious consent is an issue.
> 
> Do I also need to warn about a happy ending? Because I only write those kinds of story. Now, I think I've got all the warnings out of the way, alons-y!
> 
>  
> 
> (Oh and this story is complete. The parts will all be posted in the coming days. So, no WIP warning!)

"But it's not fair," Rose whined, sprouting a look which wasn’t particularly flattering on her. Still, he decided, she had cause to look put out.

The Doctor turned his head away, staring into space. He tuned out most of the conversation since any input he could've given wouldn’t be appreciated anyway. Apart from the passionate kiss they'd shared on the beach, Rose hadn't really been welcoming him with open arms. A fat raindrop splashed against the kitchen window. He traced its downward spiral, its descent into death, thinking it to be a very fitting image for his current predicament. A sigh escaped his lips before he could stop himself. He frowned. He'd have to work on those pesky controls.

"Come on, I'll show you to your room."

He looked up, blinking rapidly to clear his vision.

"Let's leave the ladies to their little chat, shall we?" Pete leaned in, whispering conspiratorially.

A small smile spread across the Doctor's features. He gave one curt nod before he stood up.

"Follow me then," Pete told him. 

He led him out of the kitchen, up a magnificent staircase to the first floor. It made sense for them to have moved to a new house. How would want to live in the same mansion where the Cybermen had killed countless people, including Pete's wife? He and Jackie might've gotten a second chance when Jackie moved to the parallel world, but it didn't change a few facts. Something Rose had been very keen in pointing out. Loudly.

"Here." Pete pushed a door open, gesturing him to enter. "This guest room overlooks the garden. I think you'll like it."

The Doctor shrugged. He had no opinion on the room what so ever. He didn’t require much sleep to begin with, and in the Tardis, he'd often just slept in a chair. He opened his mouth, about to say as much when he realized something. This was no longer true. He was half human now. 

"If you are only half as tired as you look, you should be out cold in no time at all," Pete observed.

The Doctor frowned. His bones did feel as if someone had attached led to them. His eyes were drooping on their own accord, and staying upright seemed to take a lot more work than it usually did.

"The shower is through there," Pete pointed towards another door in the back. "By the time you're done, I'll have one of the staff bring you some old clothes of mine." Rose's father gave him a once over. "We don’t have the same size but it should tie you over until you can go shopping tomorrow."

The Doctor recoiled in horror. Shopping? By Rassilion! Pete was right. He would need clothes, several pieces of them actually plus other human essentials since he no longer was a Time Lord. More importantly, he no longer had the Tardis, including all the bits and pieces he'd collected throughout his life. He'd lost everything. Again.

He hung his head.

"Oh, brighten up," Pete said, slapping him on his back in a weird gesture of support. "Could be worse, right?"

The Doctor didn’t see how it could possibly get any worse. When Pete was gone, he stood there for a few seconds, lost in his thoughts. His mind was quiet. He gulped. He forced himself to move, not wanting to be caught standing in the same spot as when Pete had left. Once he was in the bathroom, he quickly shed his clothes. Turning the shower on didn’t take long. When he was done, he estimated the whole procedure couldn’t have lasted longer than maybe five minutes.

When he'd dried himself off, he used the towel to wipe the mirror. He stared at his face, looking for any indication of his change in nature. Brown eyes stared back him. His spiky, dark hair was still standing up, having a life of its own. His complexion hadn't changed either. No, on the surface, he was still the same. He placed a hand over his lone heart, listening to its singular heartbeat. This was where the change became apparent. He no longer had two hearts. What else was different?

The other Doctor had said he would age with Rose, so he had a human life span now. And more importantly, only one life. He wouldn't regenerate should he die. The notion was strange. He pursed his lips, glaring at his image. Unable to stop himself, he threw the towel at it in a fit of rage.

When he stepped back out into the bedroom, his new clothes were already waiting for him, just as promised. The air seemed chilly, causing goose bumps to break out over his skin. He traced a line of them, wondering if it was normal for his skin to be this hot. Was he running a fever? Or was this acceptable human temperature? He shrugged, deciding to leave it for now.

He pulled on the sweatpants and a shirt before collapsing on the king sized bed. He closed his eyes. Outside, the storm rattled the windows, splashing raindrops against the glass. The world was in turmoil. It was only fitting considering his whole world had gotten turned upside down too.

Before he could spiral further into misery, his mind shut down, allowing him to slip into a deep sleep.

##

A sound startled him out of his dreams. His eyes snapped open. He sat up, looking around wildly. He raised a hand, running it through his hair. Where was he? Slowly, the events from yesterday slotted into place, leaving him with a bad aftertaste in his mouth.

No Tardis. No comforting presence in his mind. His ship was no longer soothing the lonely place in his mind where his people had been. Her humming was no longer a most welcome backdrop to his existence. He was alone, utterly alone. He shivered. Even with his planet gone, his people destroyed, he'd always had the comforting mental presence of the Tardis in his mind. It hadn't been enough, it had been nowhere near enough to fill the hole left in his mind, but it had soothed the ache. And now? Now, he had nothing. The silence was deafening.

He slowly slipped out of the bed. The floor was cold underneath his feet. He wiggled his toes, staring at them. Then, his stomach grumbled. Huh. He must be hungry. Well, this was something he knew how to fix.

He retraced his steps from last night, slowly making his way downstairs to the kitchen. He might have lost his whole world, his self even in a way, but he'd also gained something very important. He'd gained Rose. Now, they could build a life together. There was literally nothing left to stop them from trying. There were no guarantees, just because they'd finally been given a chance didn’t mean anything would come of it, but it meant the world to him that he would finally be able to at least try.

She'd crossed not only worlds, she'd travelled across universes to get back to him. A soft smile played across his face. Warmth spread through his body, heating him up from the inside out. He'd lost so much, but he'd also gained a whole new future. He wouldn't have made it to the ripe old age of 900 plus years, if he hadn't learned not to dwell on misery alone. There were always new worlds to discover, new experiences to be had. He might no longer be able to travel the stars, to move through time and space, but this didn't mean he had to stay put in one place. He had a whole new world to explore. And he had Rose to do it with.

He turned a corner, stopping when he saw two familiar blond heads. Two steaming mugs of tea sat on the table before them. His mouth watered. He could do with a good cuppa right about now.

"He isn't my Doctor."

Rose's words stopped him. A brick wall went up right where he stood. Even if he'd wanted too, he would have been unable to move his feet. He was nailed to the spot.

"I risked so much," she continued on to say. Only now did he notice, she was sobbing quietly, clutching her mug as if it was the only anchor she had left. Her mother put a soothing hand over hers. "And what does he do? He dumps me with a copy."

"Rose," Jackie injected. "I love Pete with all my heart."

"But he's your husband."

"And he also isn’t the man I married."

"It's different, Mum," Rose adamantly said. "He's the same person. Dad always had the same parents, the same biological make up. He's always been the way he is now."

"But he isn’t your father," Jackie pointed out. "Bless their hearts, they might be the same person, but they are also shaped by different experiences. I love Pete like he is now, but he also isn’t the same person I had you with."

"But he is still Dad!" Rose almost yelled. "I want my Doctor. The Time Lord. The man, or alien, I fell in love with. The alien with the two hearts, with the Tardis. Instead, he left me. He left me with _him_."

"I was there," Jackie chastised her daughter. "They are the same. Didn’t you listen to what he said?"

"How can they be the same if they have a different biological make up? Being half human is going to make a difference. The point is, he isn’t the man I fell in love with. He just isn’t."

The floor fell away beneath his feet, leaving nothing but a gaping chasm behind. Rose was rejecting him. He opened his mouth, a whole lecture mentally slotting into place how she'd gotten the facts wrong. Yes, he might only have one heart, he might be part human, but all that made him who he was, was still there. He was the Doctor. Just slightly altered. But he was essentially still the same man who'd loved her ever since they'd met. Or shortly after anyway, because how could he not fall in love with someone as courageous and beautiful as her? And he didn’t mean only her looks. 

Without her, he had no point in being here.

"Oh, there you are!" Jackie had finally spotted him. Her eyes darted to her daughter. The Doctor plastered a fake smile on his face, pretending he'd just arrived.

"I woke up hungry," he said, stepping into the kitchen. Rose looked up but didn’t otherwise acknowledge his presence.

"Oh, look at you," Jackie hurried towards him, grabbing his wrists, so she could spread his arms. "I've always thought you were skinny but you really need to eat more. What are you trying to do? Starve yourself?"

The Doctor glared at her. "I eat," he declared. Silently he added, "Whenever he had the time or remembered." It wasn’t as if he needed to eat as frequently as humans did. Well, he might have to start now.

"Sit, sit," she ushered him towards the table. "I'll fix you up some breakfast."

"Rose?" She then addressed her daughter. "Will you take him shopping? He really needs better clothes to wear. Pete's cast offs are even worse than I thought."

"I'm busy," Rose replied. "I've got to go into work. There's tons to be done now that we're back."

"Can't it wait?" Jackie hissed, trying to give her daughter a meaningful look.

"I'll be fine," The Doctor injected. "I can pick out my own clothes. Just point me in the right direction, and I'll take care of it." He didn’t need anyone's pity. And, more importantly, he didn’t want to be anywhere around Rose while she thought he wasn’t someone she could love.

He could practically feel the tension in her body. It radiated off her like waves. If he touched her bare skin, who knew what loathsome emotion he would pick up. No, he was hanging on by a thread, the last thing he needed was his calm shattered by Rose's negative thoughts. Besides, he had no plans of staying where he wasn’t wanted.

"Take my card then," Pete materialized right behind him, dropping a credit card onto the table. "I'll have the driver bring around the car. He can take you."

He wanted to object but he didn’t get further than making a sound.

"I know you're quite capable of taking care of yourself," Pete soothed. "But humour me, will you? Why make it any more difficult than it has to be? Make sure to tell the shop assistant to deliver it to Pete Tyler's house."

The Doctor nodded. It rankled his pride to be told what to do but Pete did have a point. Why make this experience any harder on himself than it had to be?

"Have you given any thought to what name you would like to take?"

"What?"

"Your name," Pete repeated. "I can't build a life for you, get you your ID, by naming you the Doctor."

"John Smith," Rose offered. "He's always used that name before whenever he needed to."

If Pete noticed how his daughter referred to him in the third person, as if the Doctor wasn’t actually there with her, he didn’t point it out.

"No," he said before he could stop himself. If Rose didn’t want him, if she honestly was rejecting him, then it might be best to make a clean break. For everyone concerned. "James, I'd like to go by James."

"And your last name?"

"Noble." The human part in him came from Donna. She deserved to be remembered. She'd been brilliant, sparkling, so full of life and one of the best people he'd ever met. It made him happy to know she at least would still be able to travel the stars, spend time shining amongst them. Besides, despite being wrong, Rose also was right on one important point. He might be the same man she'd fallen in love with, because he was the same person. He had the same memories, the same experiences, hell, he was the Doctor…but he also wasn't. There were differences now in his nature he would have to spend some time exploring. It might be time to acknowledge them. "James Noble." He repeated the full name.

"All right," Pete confirmed, giving him a small smile. "Good name."

When the Doctor caught Rose's glance, he couldn’t read her expression. Seconds later, she got up so quickly, her chair toppled over.

"Excuse me for a second," Pete mumbled, hurrying after her. Before the Doctor could decide what to do, Jackie placed a huge plate in front of him.

"You're not getting off this seat until you've eaten all of it."

He stared. There were two sausages, three slices of bacon, beans and tomatoes. He wasn’t even counting the toasted bread and butter. He gulped. "I can't possibly…"

"Eat."

Who was he to defy Jackie? So he picked up his knife and fork and started eating. After the first bite, his stomach practically did a somersault. The next thing he knew, he was eying the polished surface of the plate, contemplating licking it. He might've been hungrier than he'd thought. Could it be that he didn’t recognize hunger when he felt it? Had the gnawing, hollow feeling in his stomach really been a call for nourishment? Apparently so. He filed it away for later.

"Sir?" A stranger approached the table. "The car is up front. Whenever you are ready, Sir."

"Thank you," The Doctor said, getting up. "I'll just quickly change and then…"

"You can't."

"What?"

"I washed your suit." Jackie looked sheepish when the Doctor gave her a horrified stare. "Why don’t you just put on your shoes? I can give you one of Pete's jackets. You'll be fine. You'll have new clothes in a heartbeat…"

She didn’t wait for an answer, hurrying out of the kitchen as if she was being chased.

Once he'd located his shoes, he put them on. Jackie was right. His suit was a thing of the past too. 

"Be careful, Rose."

"No, Dad," she replied. "He isn't the man I love. Why can't you see it?"

"Are you sure?"

"Hell, the Doctor, the real one, even said he needs watching over!" This time, she didn’t keep the heat out of her voice. "He said he was dangerous, too volatile. He wants me to babysit!"

"Why is he dangerous?"

"How should I know?" Rose answered in anger. "Maybe because he killed all the Daleks without thinking twice about? Although," she muttered, "I wouldn’t really call it genocide. But I guess, the Doctor does have a point. He wiped out an entire species without thinking twice about it. Clearly, they aren’t the same person. He needs watching. And he wants me to do his dirty work!"

The Doctor swallowed, his throat uncomfortably dry. Was she too blind to see that it had been her love which had tempered him in the first place? Without her presence, he'd still be the same scarred man she'd met all those years ago. But clearly, her mind was made up. He recalled how difficult his regeneration had been on her before. Even then, it had taken her some time to accept he was still the same person, just wearing a new face. Maybe, if given enough time, she would once again realize that he was still the same man she'd fallen in love with? That they had been given a one in a million chance at a happy ever after? Because if he still were a full Time Lord, he wouldn’t be able to give her the things she really wanted. She would age, and eventually die, and he would have to either let her go, break her heart, or watch her slowly die.

Now, they had chance. They had a chance to make a life for themselves but she apparently didn’t want it.

He couldn’t make her. No, he wouldn’t make her. Rose was everything to him, but he wasn’t going to force his presence on her if she didn’t want him. He loved her too much. She wanted him gone? She wanted to move on? Then he would give her this chance. He owed her this much at least.

With his mind made up, he hurried outside. He'd take Pete up on his offer to purchase new clothes. And then, then he'd leave. He might not have any ID, or knew much about this world, but it would be a challenge. 

_Alons-y_.


	2. Chapter 2

Plastic bag upon plastic bag was stacked up at the cashier's, leaving the Doctor looking at the ensemble with disdain visible on his face. He gave the nearest shop assistance his most winning smile.

"Could I ask you for a favour?"

"Of course," she hastily replied. The money-hungry look was oddly reassuring and threatening at the same time. Was she working on commission? Either way, her eagerness would help him get this done.

"I'd like you to put some casual clothes in this duffel bag over there." He used his head to gesture towards a blue bag hanging on a mannequin. "Add some essential toiletries while you are at it."

"Jeans, shirts and other essentials?"

"Yes," he confirmed. "Everything I would need for, let's say…" He frowned, trying to calculate a good time frame in his mind. "For a trip of about four days?"

"I don’t think much more would fit anyway," the girl confirmed with a nod. "I shall do it straight away. Do you want it delivered with the other bags?"

"No," he hastily answered, dialling his responds back by giving her another wide smile. "I'm going to be over there, changing into more comfortable clothes. Why don’t you bring the bag to me when you are done? Oh, and…" He pretended it was an afterthought instead of actually his plan, he added. "When you charge the card, could I ask for cash back? As you can see, I'm rather short on everything at the moment."

"Of course, I'll get you the maximum amount, shall I?"

"Brilliant, thank you so much."

"Oh, it's been my pleasure," she actually gave him a leer before she rushed away to do her job.

Once he was inside the changing room, he quickly undressed. He might not like his new clothes but they would get the job done. Pete would be looking for a smartly dressed man in his usual pin-striped suits. He ordered a few them, he hadn’t been able to resist, but if he wanted to go unnoticed, he had to break pattern. Wearing jeans, boots instead of his signature converse, and an artistically faded T-shirt would work just fine. If he added the casual jacket and a cap, he might make his escape undetected. Oh, eventually Pete would cop on, run CCTV and figure things out, but hopefully by then, he would be long gone.

There was a gentle rap on the door. He quickly finished before he headed outside, taking the bag and the money. "Thank you," he added one more time. "If one of the men asks you where I am, could you tell them in the back of the shop?" He sweetened his request by slipping her a generous tip.

"Of course," she inclined her head.

He slipped out the back unnoticed, but he didn’t dare relax his shoulders until he was few streets away from the shopping mall. He scanned the area, trying to stay clear of any ATM machines, any buildings which might be equipped with CCTV. He doubted he got away totally clean but he was counting on making things as difficult as possible for Pete and his team.

Why was he running again? Apart from the fact, that running was apparently something he did. Granted, usually he could do it in more style, but why break with a habit formed in the heat of battle?

Oh, he was leaving the only people he knew in this alternate universe because he didn’t want Rose to suffer any more heartache. And, after she made him sound like raving lunatic, he also had no intention of sticking around Torchwood, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Pete might've thought he'd been sneaky, but he'd spotted the two men tailing him the moment he'd stepped out of the car. No, he had no intention of running afoul of this world's Torchwood. Without his usual resources, without any friends to wonder where he'd gone off to, he would be totally at their mercy. He wasn’t risking it. Call him paranoid, but he hadn't gotten this far in his life without a good dose of common sense. Well, some might argue but he'd made it this far, right?

Once he found a decent looking bridge, he left the footpath, heading underneath its stony protection. Sleeping rough wasn’t ideal but he'd been in worse places. Granted, not recently, but hey, it would suffice for now. He needed to save the cash. Procuring documents surely was going to come at a cost.

He made himself as comfortable as possible, resting his back against the stone pillars. The traffic overhead added a nice little rhythm to the otherwise rather silent spot. He'd have to think about how to get his identity sorted. Anger rose inside him when he realized he'd given Pete the only name he would've actually liked to use. _James Noble_. Oh well, if he wanted to stay under the radar, it might be best to come up with something totally unrelated to his former life. Something dreadful like Aloysius Cuckoo. No one in their right mind would associate someone with a name like that with the Doctor.

He allowed his eyes to drift shut. It was early afternoon yet but the shopping had been exhausting. He didn’t resist when he felt himself drift off to sleep.

##

He didn’t know what woke him, but whatever it was, its echo was still vibrating through his mind. He raised his hands, bending forward so he could rest his aching head on his knees. What the hell?

His breathing was ragged, his heart was racing, and his skin was clammy. He forcefully tried to slow his heartbeat down by taking measured deep breathes. It took a few moments but eventually it worked. The throbbing in the back of his head didn’t go away though. There was something there, a presence, a feeling he hadn't had in years. Not since…no, he wasn’t going there. The memory was still too painful.

Besides, Pete would've said something. Hell, Rose would've said something…so clearly, he was imagining things. Oh how far the mighty had fallen!

He turned, trying to find some more rest which didn’t come. When the sun slowly rose over the horizon, he decided to literally call it a night. It was time to find some new contacts, put himself out there. There were bound to be a few people around who would sell IDs to anyone for the right price. He might have to get creative about acquiring more funds but he didn’t mind a little bit excitement. 

Without his Tardis, he'd have to find other ways to keep himself from stagnating and getting bored.

He slowly crawled up the embankment again until he was back on the footpath. The river behind him still looked lacklustre, as if it hadn't been able to produce a decent-sized water level in ages. After maybe ten minutes he left the path behind, entering a car park. Suddenly, with squealing tires, a black limousine raced towards him. He turned, about to make a run for it, when a van moved up behind him, boxing him in.

Pete jumped out of the car before it had even come to stand still. "Doctor," he shouted. "Get in."

"No." He folded his arms across his chest.

"That's right," someone drawled from behind him. "He isn't coming with you. He's coming with us."

Suddenly, more goons spilled out of the van. They weren't with Pete? Who else could be looking for him? How had he managed to make any enemies in the span of the few hours he'd been here? Well, he wasn’t going to go down easily. Just because he disliked guns, didn’t mean he would just roll over when asked.

He flung his bag backwards, using it to hit Goon A in the chest. The man grunted, stumbling backwards. While one of Pete's men was moving towards him, the Doctor moved backwards, using his moment of surprise to land a right hook in Goon B's face. They must not have expected any opposition because they all looked rather flummoxed. There…there was a small opening. If he could get past them, he could head back down to the river. There was plenty of space there to get lost in, or wait them out depending on how things went.

He was suddenly yanked backwards, losing his momentum. He stumbled. Before he could fall, shots were fired. Why were there always guns involved?

A strong hand grabbed him by the upper arm, yanking him into yet another direction. He connected face first with the van. His knees threatened to give out but he'd be dammed if he would make it this easy for them. Before he could react any further, something hard and unyielding connected with the back of the head.

He was out like a light a heartbeat later.

#

"Keep him sedated!"

Blinding white light assaulted his eyes. He blinked, trying to clear not only his vision but also trying to dislodge the fog currently residing in his mind. He tried to raise a hand to rub the bridge of his nose. It didn’t budge.

He strained his head, trying to catch a good look. He was strapped down. One heartbeat passed, followed by another. Then, understanding settled in. He was in a lab. He was strapped down. He could hear equipment humming in the background.

He started to yank at his restraints in earnest, not caring if his he hurt himself in the process.  
"Knock him out!" Someone cried out again. When a needle came into view, he tried to turn his head away, twisting his body as far sideways as he could possibly manage.

The sharp end of the needle pierced his skin, and seconds later, the world started dimming again.

"No!" He shouted, but no one listened.

#

There was a trace of lemon in the air, making him feel right at home. Apart from bananas, which were just downright brilliant, he'd always enjoyed the scent of lemon. He couldn’t stand the taste of them, but the smell? Bloody marvellous!

There was a soft pressure rather high up his thigh, but he barely noticed. He shuffled, his mind struggling to figure out what had happened. The mattress currently supporting his weight seemed to try to keep him immobile, making his bones ache and his body wanting to succumb to darkness.

Fingers carded through his hair. The touch had him shivering. A thumb traced an invisible line along his jaw. His eyes slowly fluttered up.

"There you are. Welcome back, Theta."

He blinked. Then he closed his eyes. His mind stuttered to halt. He'd lost it. He'd gone barmy. Maybe travelling to an alternate universe had scrambled his brain waves.

"Oh no, look at me." Not so gentle hands were on his face, turning it towards the speaker.  
The Doctor's eyes flew open once more.

Dark eyes, gleaming with an intense light, making them almost sparkle. Short, cropped hair. A strong nose, an all too familiar smirk.

"Koschei?

"The one and only."

The Doctor gaped. Not the most flattering expression for him, he was sure of it, but he couldn’t help it. "Koschei?" he repeated, not trusting his own eyes at the moment. "You're dead."

"So are you. And yet, here you are."

He blinked.

He watched as Koschei's hand moved towards his face again, cradling it. The tenderness was strange, so not like their last encounter. Then again, this wasn’t the Koschei he'd watched die not too long ago. This Koschei was from a different reality.

"How?" He stumbled for words. 

"You didn’t make it." Now the Doctor was on the receiving end of a mighty glare. "You were supposed to join me in the Tardis but you never showed. The blasted thing took off, leaving me stranded here when it crashed."

"Took off?"

"You're an ass," Koshei informed him. "You programmed it to leave if you didn’t make it by a certain time. You died, like the rest of our people."

"How long have you been on Earth then?"

"A while."

The Doctor gulped.

"And no means of getting off this blasted rock. Do you have any idea how long it took for me to get myself together enough to establish a working alias? How annoying it is to invent a new one every decade or so because I'm not aging like the rest of them?"

"I'm sorry?" He offered up, unsure what else to say.

"But you found your way back to me," the Master's expression turned slightly more intense than the Doctor would've liked. "Nothing else matters."

"I'm not," he tried to explain but his childhood friend didn’t let him finish.

"I know. You're more or less half human now. I had tests run on you to confirm it. When I felt your presence in the back of my mind, I couldn’t believe it. I had to be sure you're you."  
"You're the one who had me strapped down? What did you do?" The Doctor demanded to know. He sat up, balling his fingers into tight fists.

"Oh, come off it." Koshei replied. "You would've done the same thing. And don’t worry, no one will ever spill your secrets."

"What did you do?"

"Dead men tell no tales."

"Kosh!"

"What?"

"You can't just kill them! Those men worked for you!"

"And they know you're half alien. They also hurt you. I can't have that, now can I?"

"But…" The Doctor spluttered.

"Now," in his most pleasant tone of voice, the Master continued. "Why don’t you tell me how you ended up in this part the universe and how you ended up as half a Time Lord?"

The doctor squinted. "No."

"Oh, well." The Master actually smiled at him. "I thought you might be difficult about it. But not to worry. This shouldn’t harm you. It might sting, but you should be fine."

Before the Doctor could react, a patch of sorts was slapped onto the skin on his throat. He tried to pry it off him but the Master was quicker, restraining him. With his Time Lord strength, the Doctor was no match for him.

"Now," the Master's too pleasant voice continued. "Why don’t you tell me how you ended up with only one heart? And start at the beginning. Don’t leave anything out."

Everything spilled out of the Doctor's mouth, words tumbling over his lips like a flash flood. He couldn’t stop it. He recalled the events which led to the meta crisis, to Donna, to his emergence. He ended the tale with him getting dropped off her, supposedly so he could share in a happy ever after with Rose.

"She isn’t interested though," he added, his voice hoarse from taking so much. "To her, I'm not really me."

"She's a fool then," the Master declared, his eyes shining. "You are the boy I grew up with, there's no doubt on my mind."

Something precious blossomed to life deep inside him. He hadn't realized how important it was to him for someone to confirm he still was the Doctor. Right now, it didn’t matter that the words had come from Koschei.

"You've come back to me. I won't let you slip through my fingers a second time, you've got my word on it."

The words were barely audible over the torrent inside his ears. Out of nowhere the pressure seemed to build, drowning out all the noise around him.

"Doctor? Doctor? Theta!" What he assumed to be shouted words, barely managed to reach him. The world had gotten noisy. The background noise, nothing but static normally, had come into play with a vengeance, making it impossible to hear anything else. The ground was also slowly opening up, swallowing him whole.

He relaxed, allowing the mattress to embrace him, giving the oncoming darkness free reign.

#

Beep.

Beep.

It was the incessant, and annoying, sound which made him struggle for consciousness. If he could wake up, then he could turn it off. Then he could sink back into the abyss where nothing mattered, where he was at peace.

Slowly he opened his eyes. Not because he wanted to give his eyes time to adjust to the light, but because adding any kind of speed to the movement might actually be beyond him right now. He blinked away a few tears as his eye sight adjusted once more. He'd rather not make a habit of passing out if he could help it. Not only did it leave him vulnerable to the world around him, it also was damn awkward and nothing but a nuisance.

He soon identified the beeping noise. Some king of monitor was attached to him. So basically, he was responsible for the horrid sound. Well, there was an easy way to remedy the situation. He just had to disconnect himself. He lifted his hand, reaching across his body so he could remove the tags.

"Let me do it. If you're awake, you obviously don’t need them anymore."

Should he glad he hadn’t actually hallucinated his childhood friend and youthful crush? The verdict on that wasn’t in yet. For all his faults, Koschei was gentle when he removed the bits and pieces attached to him. As predicted, the beeping stopped.

"What happened?" He asked, smacking his lips. His was parched. He swallowed hard, trying to rectify the situation.

"Here, have some water." 

The careful way with which the Master assisted him freaked him out. Once he was in a sitting position, his former, maybe still, friend put the glass to his lips, carefully tilting it. He took a few sips before he shook his head. He watched as the Master put the glass down on the nearby night stand.

"What happened?" He asked again.

"The truth drug apparently had a side effect. It dangerously slowed your heartbeat. You could've died."

The Doctor scoffed. "You're the one who gave it to me!"

"And I was assured it wouldn’t affect you at all. Not adversely at least. Rest assured, the mistake will not be repeated."

"So you chopped someone else's head off then?" The question had been rhetorical but judging from the sheepish look on the Master's face, he had a sinking feeling he might've actually done just that. "You didn’t, right? You didn’t kill the poor sod who'd miscalculated?"

"I hadn't considered decapitation before," the Master thoughtfully mumbled. "It is a novel thought. But no, I just had him shot. It's quite efficient too."

"You…"

"Oh, please," the Master interrupted him. "As if you wouldn’t do the same if someone you cared about got hurt."

"I don’t kill people."

"No," Koschei replied with a smirk. "You just find rather effective ways to make them miserable and get someone else to kill them for you. You forget, I know you. You might not like weapons, but you're not above using any means possible to get what you want."

The Doctor pursed his lips, wanting to argue the point. But what would it gain? There was some truth to it, even if he wouldn’t necessarily see it in the same light. Besides, he'd more pressing issues to worry about. Like getting out of here. Koschei might've not tried actively harm him, but he'd drugged him twice and experimented on him. What if he decided one fine morning he wasn’t really the same person he'd known all those years ago? What if he turned into Rose, thinking he wasn’t anything but a cheap copy? He'd be dead even before he could think of a way to escape then. Besides, he hadn't run away from Pete to end up here.

"Well," he drawled. "I'm glad we sorted this. If you excuse me, I'm going to leave now." He heaved himself out of bed, kind of surprised when he didn’t encounter any objection.

"You're going to leave without shoes?"

The Doctor glanced down. Damn. Shoes. And what the hell was he wearing? Sweatpants again and some raggedy shirt.

He lifted his head.

"You're not going anywhere," the Master promised him, invading his space. He backed away until his back connected with the wall. The Master put his hands beside his head, boxing him in. He glared.

"You can't honestly think I would let you go?" The Master managed to sound puzzled, as if he genuinely couldn’t fathom why the Doctor would think so. "I just found you. I'm no longer alone. You're finally here."

"Errr."

He should've seen it coming, but he still wasn’t prepared for when the Master put both his hands on his temples. 

"No!"

"Yes!"

With the connection established, the Doctor felt like drowning. It had been too long, too long since he'd enjoyed a connection as such. He'd missed the constant humming of the Tardis like a missing limb, but nothing could possibly ever compare to the emptiness inside his head. Even before…before he'd arrived here, the constant hole had been a burden he'd carried since there had never been any other choice. But now? Now, he wasn’t alone.

Emotions flooded into him, mixing with his own until he could no longer tell where he began and the Master ended. They were sharing, basking in the pleasure of connecting two very compatible minds.

He shoved the Master backwards, grabbing the hem of his own shirt, yanking it over his head. He then advanced, grabbing the Master's head, pulling him towards him and into a scorching kiss. The Master settled his hands low on the Doctor's back, his thumbs idly stroking over unblemished skin.

He keened, leaning into the other man, pressing their bodies even closer together. When they came away for air, the Master removed his shirt, throwing it carelessly into the room behind them.

With deft fingers, the Doctor worked on the buttons to the Master's trousers, ripping the free when they didn’t cooperate at first. The Master chuckled. Before he knew it, the Doctor was on his back, bouncing slightly on the mattress. Another wave of pleasure hit him since his shields were lowered and so were Koscheis. He shivered, twisting on the silken sheets.

When the Master joined him, there wasn’t a stitch of clothing on him. The Doctor obligingly lifted his hips, making it easy for his friend to pull his sweatpants down his long legs. With the mind link now fully established, he soon drifted into a sea of pleasure, of undiluted want. He could barely process simple function such as breathing or touching. He didn’t object to being turned around until his face connected with the pillow. He grunted, shifting his hips so he could press his straining erection into the cold sheets. He'd never been fond of silk. The blasted fabric felt cold any given time day or night. How anyone found it comfortable or alluring was beyond him.

It had been a while since he enjoyed the pleasure of his body, and even longer since he'd been able to feel his partner's pleasure overwhelming him. In the back of his mind, a faint alarm went off. A tiny voice was trying to tell him that this was exactly what Koschei had wanted. He'd wanted him this out of it, this stretched to his limits because he knew that once he'd tasted the forbidden fruit, there was no way he could just walk away. He'd missed his people for too long, mourned the loss of his planet, there was no chance in hell he would be able to walk away from another Time Lord. Not after what they were about to share. Koschei had always been a manipulative bastard, but right now, the Doctor honestly couldn’t find it within him to care.

When Koschei slowly pushed into him, his cock forcing its way into his tight body, it only hurt for a few seconds. He groaned, his own cock filling even more. He started to hump the bed, desperate for any kind of friction, as Koschei started up his rather frantic rhythm. The hard cock inside him rubbed against the walls of his body, stimulating him from the inside out, while his mind practically erupted into dancing stars. Whole galaxies were born and destroyed during their love making, until, with one final thrust, the Doctor plunged over the edge. The universe erupted, leaving him shuddering, gasping for breath.

When he regained some sort of awareness, he found himself curled into Koschei's chest, one arm possessively draped around the other man.

Maybe he could stay for a bit. It wasn’t as if he had anywhere else to be. And, hopefully, the Master wasn’t about to try and take over the planet again. For now, what was wrong with enjoying some companionship for as long as it lasted?


	3. Chapter 3

Lips pressed to his own woke him up rather abruptly.

"Ngh," he complained, tilting his head sideways. When was the last time he'd brushed his teeth? Actually, he could do with an overall shower.

"How about you hop into the shower?" The Master offered. "I left your bag next to the bed. When you're done, just come out. I have something to show you."

The Doctor opened one eye. The Master beamed it, his excitement practically coming off him in waves. Whatever he had to show him, it clearly meant a lot to him. Should he be worried? And since when had he turned into such a sour puss, seeing doom and gloom at every corner? This wasn’t the same Time Lord who'd tried to hurt him by killing humans, by enslaving Earth. He shouldn’t judge Koschei by actions which had never been his. Still, a little bit of caution would go a long way.

He nodded, extracting himself from the bed. His eyes fell on another door which he presumed to be the bathroom door. Showering didn’t take long, and once he'd towelled dry, he stepped back out into the bedroom. He found his little duffel bag right where the Master had said it would be.

He quickly pulled out all he needed. A few minutes later, he stepped through the only other door into what could be described as a parlour slash home office. He sniffed the air. Was this tea he was smelling? He made a beeline for it, ignoring the amused chuckled following him. He hadn’t realized how hungry he actually was, until he started eating. When he was done, he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his belly.

"I'll have to make sure you get regular exercise," the Master drawled, giving him his best leer. "Can't have you getting fat."

The Doctor shrugged. He hadn't gained weight since he'd ended up half human. He wasn’t particularly worried about it. 

"You're too skinny anyway. What happened? Forgotten how to feed yourself?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes. Why did everyone seem to be fascinated by his weight?

"Come on, I'll show you something marvellous."

"No corpse, no internal organs, no strange experiments of any kind, please," the Doctor demanded, only half joking. "I've just eaten."

"I like the way you think."

"We're doomed then," the Doctor muttered.

The Master led him down an impressive looking hallway until they arrived at the basement. He keyed in a complicated looking code before the glass doors opened. "The code is the name of the place where we used to play in the grass."

The Doctor opened his mouth, but the Master silenced him by putting a finger on his lips. "Never say it out loud. This is too precious for any risk to be taken."

Without uttering another word, the Doctor nodded.

"Come here," the Master gestured for him to follow.

In the distance, he could see a small tray filled with sand. The closer he got, the more intense the pressure on his mind became. He looked around. Was there a song in the air? He reached out, touching the air all around him, as if he was trying to feel the vibration all around him.

The mystery was solved the moment he stepped in front of it. His eyes widened. It couldn’t be.

"Is this…?"

"Yes," the Master confirmed. "This is all that survived of the Tardis after crashing to Earth. I've been nursing it for a long time. It finally started humming a decade ago. I think, it might be getting ready to hatch."

The Doctor leaned closer until his nose almost touched the baby Tardis. "Aren't you the cutest," he cooed at it. He reached out, softly running his fingers over its surface. He received a pleasant hum in responds.

"I want you to take care of her."

"What?" He looked up, staring at Koschei. "But she's yours," he protested.

"We both know I'm rubbish at growing things. If you want something blown up, I can do it. But nurturing and nursing? I'm lucky she's a tough girl, otherwise I would've probably killed her already by accident."

"But I don’t know anything about Tardis hatching."

"Neither do it." The Master gave him a meaningful look. "It took me years until she finally acknowledged my presence. She hummed at you barely five minutes after meeting you. No, if anyone can get her to actually grow into a fully grown ship, it'll be you."

The Doctor opened his mouth, ready to argue again when the Master cut him off with an argument he couldn’t refute. "Don’t you want to go back to the stars?"

"I'll need a few things," the Doctor said eventually.

"Anything you need. I'll get you a tablet, full access. You can requisition anything you think you'll need."

The Doctor wasn’t listening any more, too focused on the baby Tardis before him. "You're precious," he told her. "We'll do great things together, won't we? We’ll travel the stars, explore the universe."

The humming got louder, making him smile. Despite the Masters words, he'd done a good job. She was clearly thriving.

#

Days passed, turning into weeks. The Doctor's schedule was always the same. Take care of the Tardis, run tests and evaluations, spend any other spare time with the Master. More often than not, their talks ended with them naked. Deep down, he was aware the Master was still manipulating him, trying to get his way by showing him the pleasure they could share.

The Doctor was perfectly aware their relationship had issues. They argued, often ending in physical blows. In the end, both seemed to be craving the intimate connection too much to put a stop to it.

He sighed. How had he ended up like this? He rubbed the tender spot on his face. Only this morning, one careless comment from him, had resulted in the Master lashing out. He wasn’t the only one who frequently forgot that despite his Time Lord brain, his body was human. He wasn’t as strong as he remembered being. A playful shove, which before might've stung for a moment, could now seriously bruise him. Still, he should probably put a stop to settling arguments with violence. Especially, since it seemed he was always the one who ended up looking worse for wear. For someone who abhorred any use of weapons, he sure as hell seemed to enjoy conflict with his oldest friend. Lover. Whatever.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave. He couldn’t go back to the quietness of his mind. It would kill him. Maybe if he had something else out there, maybe if he had friends or someone who loved him, maybe then he could walk away. Finding love, the kind he'd been promised with Rose, might be just enough to drown out the silence in his head, fill the gaping hole inside him.

But without it? He'd go mad. Where the Master had turned crazy thanks to the constant drums in his head, the Doctor's worst enemy was the silence. He couldn’t stand to be still. He always needed to move, go places, see things, anything to stop himself from dwelling too long on what he'd lost.

Now, he'd finally stopped running. There was still a hole in the back of his mind, and it would always be there. The gap losing his people had left behind, was never going to be closed. But now, he'd had the hum of the Tardis. And he had his connection to Koschei.

No, it would be smart to leave. He should high tail it out of here before he'd lost himself. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Besides, what would happen to Koschei if he left? He couldn’t abandon him again. He'd failed him once, he wasn’t going to fail him a second time.

And the bastard knew. He'd seen into his mind. He knew perfectly well how invested the Doctor was in their friendship, how broken up he'd been when he'd thought his friend had died. He hadn’t divulged how the Master had died, he wasn’t a total novice when it came to mind links during sex, but there had been no way for him to block out the sadness he felt. Thankfully, Koschei seemed to assume their roles had simply been reversed. Here, he had survived. In the Doctor's home universe, he'd been the one to make it.

"Come on," he told the baby Tardis. "Let's go and see Harry."

Harry Saxon. He wasn’t prime minister here, but he was still quite powerful. The Master had downright laughed in his face, when the Doctor had refused to call him thus in front of other people. And their private names were just that – private. But Harry? Harry had a good ring to it. He'd even started to call the Doctor James whenever someone else was around.

He hadn't asked when a few days after they'd met, the Master had showed up with a folder, containing his ID: James Noble.

He wrapped the tiny rock in a cotton handkerchief before he pocketed it. He met a few people Harry employed on his way towards his office. Someone might assume he might be a prisoner of sorts, since he hadn’t actually left the premises since getting here. Nothing further could be from the truth, he hoped. He'd been too caught up with the Tardis to worry about the outside world. Besides, she'd made good progress. Why would he need anything else? If he could accelerate her growth somehow, she might even turn into a ship in his life time. This wasn’t something he'd brought up with Koschei yet. But sadly it was a real possibility that he would never see her fully grown, or reap the benefits of what he was doing. Still, it would be worth it if this universe had another Tardis flying among the stars. Even if it wasn’t him piloting her.

He pushed the door open, not bothering to knock. The Master didn’t have any appointments this morning, so he knew he wasn’t walking in on any meeting.

"I've had an idea," he started saying the moment he entered, turning so he could use his leg to kick the door shut.

"Doctor!"

Rose's unexpected shout had him stumbling, nearly falling on his ass. She made as if she was going to dash towards him when her father caught her upper arm, restraining her. Pete shot a meaningful look towards one of Harry's goons standing beside the desk.

Deciding the best way to proceed was to move forward, the Doctor walked towards the Master who was leaning against the desk, his long legs casually crossed. The Doctor walked right into his space, pressing his nose to his ears. He could practically feel the smirk spreading across the Master's face. And, he had to be honest, it felt good to ignore Rose, to show her he didn’t need her after all. Hadn't she shoved him away? What was she doing here now? Why did she pretend to care? Did absence really make the human heart grow fonder?

"She transmitted a thought this morning," he whispered, his hot breath brushing over exposed skin. The Master shivered. The Doctor placed a hand around the Master's waist, leaning in closer. "I think she's trying to tell me how I can speed up her growth."

When the Master grabbed his wrist, forcing him to turn so that it was him with his back to the table, he couldn’t hide the flinch. When the Master reached out, trying to touch his bruised cheek, the Doctor ducked out of reach, trying to get away. He'd only taken a step, when the Master practically flung his arm around him, forcing him to stop.

"You're not leaving," he simply stated in a mock whisper.

The Doctor tried to twist out of the embrace, his ribs protesting slightly. Koschei was once again forgetting he wasn’t made of the same stern stuff anymore as Time Lords.

"You're hurting me," he informed him.

"Good."

The Doctor rolled his eyes. Leave it to the Master to attempt his way of flirting in front of an audience. Eventually, the Doctor did manage to extract himself, sending a sheepish look towards Pete and Rose. He opened his mouth, but whatever words he might've spoken vanished in an instant. The ground dropped away from him, leaving nothing but a gaping schism. Stars flew past him, and an all too familiar vortex seemed to be trying to suck him in. In the background, he could hear fighting, shots being fired, and people shouting.

He felt the ground rising up to meet him, the sharp, hot pressure in his back increasing tenfold. He withered on the ground, trying to escape the agony. Light spread out from within him, from his soul, forcing his body into regeneration. Before the warm embrace of his energy could engulf him, another shot rang out. He recoiled. Fire exploded in his head as everything turned to dust. Then, there were suddenly two of him. One was on the ground, the dead body slowly fading as if it was being sucked into another dimension, while he stood on, watching.

How was this possible? Had his other self, the Doctor in the Time Lord's body died? Had this been real? Had he not only been shot in the back but also shot in the head, preventing the regeneration cycle from commencing?

He shivered. The connection faltered. Darkness reached out to him once more. He could hear shouts. Koschei was yelling his name, so was Rose, so was Pete. And yet, as if a string had been snapped, the connection broke. He hurled forward once more, the muddy ground hovering before him like the only hope in an otherwise dark tunnel.

When he landed, he landed hard. His breath was knocked out of him, leaving him gasping. But he wasn’t alone. Whatever had happened, however he'd managed to get dragged from one universe to the other, he'd taken the Master and Rose with him.


	4. Chapter 4

Jack ducked a swing aimed at his head, twisting his body so he could retaliate by kicking the feet out from underneath his attacker. Damn, these guys were persistent. Hopefully the Doctor would finish dismantling and / or blowing up the doomsday device before anyone got seriously hurt.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Gwen dishing out her favourite brand of justice without thinking twice about it. Ever since they'd lost Owen and Tosh, she'd been a bit volatile. Jack understood, but still, he would have to make a mental note to keep an eye out for her.

Ianto thankfully wasn’t out in the field, getting his ass kicked. His friend and lover was back in the hub, steering any kind of traffic away from their location. They were in a remote area to begin with, but the last thing Torchwood needed was for some stupid tourist to accidentally hike into the battle zone. Besides, Ianto was the best at liaising with other official entities. Jack always seemed to manage to irritate anyone he talked to. No, Ianto was best at dealing with office politics. It was also a sign of excellent leadership, Jack admitted, to be able to delegate.

"Oh, no you don’t," he informed another green-skinned alien when he, it?, aimed a gun at the Doctor. He used the weight of his body to ram into the alien, causing them both to tumble to the ground. Then, up close and personal, he shot it in the face. This was what anyone got for trying to start up an atmospheric converter on his watch! Why would anyone try to invade a planet when they needed to change the atmospheric components for them to be comfortable? Couldn't they have just picked a planet where the atmosphere already matched? What was it about Earth that always seemed to attract the crazies?

A shot rang out, ringing loud and clear in his ears. The world stuttered to a halt. The Doctor lost his grip on the metal construct, falling backwards onto the ground. Seconds later, the familiar yellow glow started. For a brief moment, Jack was relieved. The Doc was going to make it. Then, another shot went off like a cannon. The glow faded.

"No!" He shouted at the top of his lungs. This couldn’t be happening. His eyes must be deceiving him. The Doctor couldn’t possible die. Not from something this simple. Sure, there were green aliens running about, trying to start up their stupid device, invading the Earth. But they had faced much worse enemies, coming away without any scratch. This couldn’t be the end! It just couldn’t be. Frankly, it just didn’t compute.

He threw himself on the ground next to his friend, next to the man he'd loved for a very long time, reaching out. Before he could clutch his hand, begging him to regenerate, to fucking do _something_ , a black vortex opened. He could see the swirling darkness, a tunnel stretching into what could potentially be infinity. Beyond the shadows, he saw a familiar face.

As it came closer, he noticed other shapes behind him, travelling the same path just further away. When it would appear that the connection faltered, he looked down, staring at his friend's face. The skin, even though it was no longer glowing, seemed to be turning translucent. Was he fading? He looked up, just in time to see the other Doctor hurling towards him, landing with a sickening crunch on the muddy ground. Two other figures toppled out after him.

Almost instantly, the Doctor, who he'd fought alongside with, vanished into thin air. For a brief second, it was as if he could see his body travelling into the dark vortex, taking the other's place on the other side. Then, just as it had appeared, the dark hole closed, leaving no trace of its existence behind.

"I got it!" Gwen yelled, pulling his attention towards her. She had taken the Doctor's place on the metal object, yanking the last piece away from it. He cringed, certain the Doctor would've scolded her. However, the moment her feet touched the ground, the device shook. Then, it broke apart. So whatever she had done, regardless of how crude her methods had been, it had been quite effective. As if on cue, the aliens all crumbled to the ground. _Huh_. He'd have to look into that, make sure they were really dead.

A groan to his side reminded him sharply of the tragedy he'd been forced to witness.

"Get your hands off him!" A familiar female voice yelled at the man who was trying to assist the Doctor in getting up. Jack could only see his back, so he couldn’t be sure as to why the figure looked familiar.

"Rose?"

"Jack? Jack!" She flung herself at him, nearly causing him to go down a second time. "It's you, it's really you." And then on the same breath, she added. "Do something! Saxon's been holding him prisoner for weeks. You can't let him hurt him again!"

Two things slotted into place with a painful crunch. One, if Rose was here, then the black hole had been real, somehow breaching from their universe to hers. Second, while there was no way the loss of the Time Lord could possibly ever be compensated by anything, he had a half-human Time Lord to worry about now. A Doctor, who was just as smart, just as infuriatingly pretty like the _real_ one, but who didn’t possess the same physical strength, or his ability to cheat death.

Wait. Saxon. Harry Saxon? The year that never was?

To say, Jack almost literally saw red would be an understatement. For the second time in under half an hour, the world fell away from him, leaving only one man in his sight. He moved like the wind, grabbing Saxon by his neck, hauling him away from the Doctor with as much force as he could muster.

The Doctor stared at him wide eyed. A horrid bruise blossomed on his cheek, painting a not so pretty picture. What other injuries was he hiding? What had Saxon been up to with a near defenceless half-human Doctor? It boggled the mind. Jack couldn’t even think about it. Hell, he couldn’t think period. There was this huge ache in his heart where his affection for his Doctor had been. The man had died. Almost literally in his arms. And yet, hope was there too, right next to it, getting cosy with fear. It was too much, too much for him to handle on so short notice.

The Doctor's mouth hung open. He looked as startled as a deer would look if it got caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. The look couldn’t possibly be endearing, and yet, it was. Then, his skin started to glow. Slowly at first, starting at the finger tips, before snaking up his arms, moving on to fully engulf him. He shook. He tilted his head skywards, screaming silently before he collapsed, landing once more on the ground.

 _Click_.

He froze.

Rose cursed.

"If you so much as move a muscle, I'll pull the trigger." Saxon's infuriating voice hadn't changed one bit.

Jack didn’t have to move, since the evil mastermind walked into his line of vision, stepping between them and the Doctor.

The Doctor mumbled something, slowly heaving himself into a sitting position. The Master never broke eye contact with both Jack and Rose, but he did twist his body sideways so he had the Doctor in his line of sight.

"What did I tell you about leaving?"

The Doctor looked up, his eyes briefly settling on the Master before locking onto Jack. They then flickered towards Rose before coming to stare at him once more.

"Stop projecting," he said, rubbing his temple. "You're giving me a migraine."

"I'm giving you a migraine?" The Master asked, his voice rising sharply.

"You're the one who is allergic to nearly everything."

"I'm not the one who got drugged. That bit is on you. If you'd just asked…"

"I did!"

"You didn’t!"

"I did! You refused to answer."

"And you put the bloody patch on me!"

A green alien twitched nearby, emitting a groan. The Doctor swiftly got onto his feet, closing the distance. Then, he stomped onto the alien's neck. The sickening crunch could easily be heard. Jack couldn’t say he minded. Still, it was a bit shocking to see the Doctor this violent.  
"Hah!" The Master exclaimed. "And I'm the twisted one. I only shoot people."

"Please," the Doctor tiredly answered. "Can we stop having the same argument over and over again? Hurting people is bad. Stop doing it."

"So the alien wasn’t people?"

The Doctor shot him a look which could only be described as a death glare. "Of course, he was _people_ ," he replied with heat. "But I draw the line at trying to invade a planet." His eyes settled on Jack. "He was trying to invade, right?"

Jack nodded, momentarily lost for words, something which only rarely happened to him at all. 

The Master snorted as if the Doctor had just told a good joke.

"Drop the weapon, Harry," The Doctor continued on to say, his attention diverting from Jack once again to Saxon. He was too calm for Jack's liking, too composed. When the Master didn’t comply, simply raising an eye brow, the Doctor stepped in front of him, putting his hand on the gun.

"They are my friends. You won't be shooting them."

"But…"

"I said no."

The moment the barrel of the gun was lowered ever so slightly, both Jack and Rose reached for weapons. Jack picked up the gun he'd dropped whereas Rose reached for a nearby alien device.

The Doctor remained poised in front of the Master. However, he turned, facing both Jack and Rose now.

"You won't be shooting him either," he calmly instructed.

"But he tortured you! Have you forgotten?"

"He kidnapped you!"

Both Rose and Jack spoke at the same time.

"He isn’t the same Master you know. He's from Pete's world. Back there, he was the only survivor of our people. He hasn’t done anything to incur your wrath."

"He's still the same person," Jack pointed out.

"He kidnapped you! He kept you locked up. He hurt you!" She was now gesturing widely.  
How odd was it that the Doctor kept ignoring her? He glanced at Rose. She seemed desperate, barely keeping herself from lunging at him.

"Promise me," the Doctor's voice was cold, demanding. "You won't hurt him. You can't hold him responsible for the actions committed by someone from another universe. You must know this isn’t right."

Jack lowered his gun. Rose was slower to react but, eventually, she did the same. He wasn’t convinced, not by a long shot, but the Doctor did have a point. Still, he was also pretty certain that it wouldn’t take long for the Master to commit a new crime. Then he could shoot him. And judging from the bruise on the human Doctor's face, he wasn’t going to have to wait too long for the honour to put the last remaining true Time Lord out of the misery of his existence.

"Harry?" The Doctor's voice sounded oddly small. "You can catch me now."

Then, without any further warning, the eyes rolled to the back of his head. The Doctor crumbled into the Master's waiting arms. Jack's fingers twitched. If he pulled the trigger now, only Rose would know the truth. They shared a look, clearly thinking along the same lines. Jack shook his head. No, he would know. He would know he had betrayed the Doctor's trust.  
"Will someone please tell me what the fuck happened?" Gwen brought them all back to reality. "I already called Ianto. He's sending a clean-up crew."

Jack ignored her for now. "We need to get back to the hub. Can you call Martha? Tell her to meet us there. We'll need her medical expertise."

"Do you want me to stay here until they arrive? Make sure none of them gets up and tries again?"

"Yes, Gwen. Thank you," Jack confirmed, giving her small nod. She returned it without hesitation.

"Come on, Rose," he addressed his former fellow traveller. "Our van isn’t far from here. The sooner we get the Doc to Torchwood, the sooner we can make sure he's all right."

She followed without another word, walking behind them. Jack went first, leading the way. The Master, with the Doctor awkwardly in his arms, followed. The rear was made up by Rose, probably with her gun at the ready. Jack couldn’t say he blamed her.

What a day. But knowing the Doctor, it was only going to get weirder from here on out.


	5. Chapter 5

The drive back to Torchwood was beyond tense. Frankly, Jack felt tempted to pull the car over, take out a knife and cut the air with it. He didn’t stop though, not even once. His knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. He took a breath, mentally telling himself to relax. It wouldn’t do anyone any good if he caused an accident. Thankfully, the traffic was minimal, allowing them to make good time.

Once he'd parked the car, he guided them towards the visitor's entrance. He trusted Rose with his life, but Saxon was another matter. There was no way in hell, he would show him the _real_ entrance to the secret headquarters of Torchwood. Jack might be considered rash by many people, but contrary to popular belief, he wasn’t stupid.

Once they'd bypassed Ianto, he directed Rose towards the infirmary. He didn’t point out that normally the place was the morgue where they dissected dead aliens for science sake. Saxon trailed after her, shooting suspicious glances at everyone and everything. Frankly, Jack couldn’t supress his concern at how meek the man had followed them so far. He hadn't let go of the Doctor or his gun, but he hadn't commented once or tried to get away. Maybe, deep down, he knew the Doctor needed medical assistance? Maybe he actually cared?

Jack shivered. The thought disturbed him. A cruel Master was one thing, but one who actually cared despite his insanity? If this was true, they were all in for a fight. Well, Jack rubbed his hands together, he'd never minded a good fight.

Ianto cleared his throat. It was his way of asking _what the fuck is going on_?

"Later," Jack informed him, already following Rose. "Is Martha coming in?"

"She should be here…" Ianto stopped, consulting something on his tablet, before he amended his answer. "Actually, she's here."

As if on cue, Martha stepped into the hub. "Jack, what's going on? You're lucky today's my day off. What if I had a shift at the hospital?"

"Then you would've called in sick."

"Jack…," she tried to scold him. This wasn’t a new conversation. For the life of him, Jack couldn’t figure out why she would settle in Cardiff and then not come work for his team. What was the point in moving here, and then to go and work for the local hospital?

"Just come with me," he instructed, turning around. He'd lost sight of Rose. His stomach turned. She was quite capable of looking after herself but it didn’t sit well with him to leave her alone with the Master for too long.

On the way, he quickly filled her in on what had happened.

"So our Doctor is dead?" She barely managed to say the word out loud. Jack still had problems even thinking it. He swallowed hard. "But the human Doctor returned from the other universe at our Doctor's time of death?"

"Looks that way," he confirmed. "He then glowed yellow before he collapsed."

"Do you think the universe is trying to have a laugh at our expense?"

"Maybe it's more along the lines of our universe needing a Doctor while the other one doesn’t."

"What?"

"Martha," Jack paused, grabbing her upper arm. "In the other place, there is no Doctor. But they do have one Time Lord who survived."

"Who?"

He held her gaze.

"No…you're kidding, right?" Her voice rose slightly.

"I'm afraid not."

"And he's _here_?" Her fingers clenched and unclenched. He intensified his grip.

"Before he passed out, he made us promise not to harm the Master."

"How could he…?"

"Let's focus on figuring out why he lost consciousness first, all right? We can worry about bloody Saxon afterwards."

Martha blinked. Then she nodded. Her hatred for Saxon, her need for revenge could be a problem, but only in the sense that she would have to get in line. Jack had called dibs on the Doctor long ago. No one hurt him without consequences.

Martha's eyes slightly widened when she saw Rose hovering as close to the still form of the Doctor as the Master allowed. Saxon had put him down on a metal table, standing by his side with the gun firmly in front of him. Since he was standing with his back to the wall, he had a clear view of anyone who entered the room.

"I'm going to have to run some scans," she announced, walking quickly towards the adjacent scanner. The Master followed her every move, but he didn’t protest when she gestured for him to take a step back. The soft whirring sound of the scanner being active set Jack's teeth on edge. What were they going to find?

It seemed like hours before Martha spoke again. "I thought he was supposed to be half human?"

"He is," Rose confirmed. "One heart and a single life span…"

"I don’t know about that," Martha mumbled, worrying her lower lip. "If this scan is correct, then he's physiology is at least 70% alien."

"He's always been more Time Lord than human," Saxon spoke for the first time since he'd entered Torchwood.

"How do you know?" Martha challenged.

"You experimented on him, didn’t you? You took him against his will, and then you hurt him."

"I didn’t hurt him," Saxon countered.

"The bruise on his face says otherwise. I also saw how he flinched when he tried to escape your hold."

The Master actually had the audacity to roll his eyes at her.

"May I?" he asked, stepping towards Martha. She looked uncomfortable, but then she took a step aside. "He's definitely changed," he confirmed. "See here?" He pointed at something which had Martha nodding. "Before coming here, this part…"

Jack tuned them out. Medical speak always gave him a headache.

His eyes caught Rose. When he saw her twitch, he shook his head. She gave him an incredulous look. He shook his head again, mouthing _no_ at her. He could understand her motivation to attack Saxon but now wasn’t the time. First of all, they'd given the Doctor their word. Second, they were in an enclosed space. If the gun went off, anyone could get hurt. It wasn’t worth the risk.

Thankfully, she backed down.

"What about Jack's theory?" Martha's words brought his attention back to them.

"What theory?" There was something very unsettling about being at the centre of Saxon's stare. Goose bumps broke out on his skin, making him shiver. Still, he didn’t flinch once, holding the man's gaze. He knew predators. If he showed only a little sign of weakness, Saxon would find a way to exploit it.

Jack frowned. What theory was Martha talking about? Then, it clicked. "You mean about our universe needing a Doctor?"

Martha nodded.

"Elaborate, please."

"Well," Jack answered. "The Doctor is kind of the man who fixes anything that goes wrong in the time line. Not just for Earth, but for all species out there. I haven’t been to a single planet, where the legend of the lone Time Lord hasn't been heard in one form or the other."

The Master nodded, his eyes intent. Jack could practically see the wheels turning in the guy's head.

"In Pete's world, you don’t have a Doctor. You're the one who survived. So when our Doctor died, the universe had a hole to fill. Since he is practically our Doctor, just slightly altered, some cosmic force reached out, dragging him back here."

"And it used his nearly depleted energy to restore some of what he'd lost," the Master finished.

"Come again?" Martha asked.

"He glowed," Saxon answered, staring at the Doctor. "We don’t glow unless we're about to regenerate. He must've absorbed parts of his former energy back into his body. This is why his readings have changed."

"Does he have two hearts again?"

The Master ignored Rose, but he still answered her question. "No. There's no telling about his life span either. He's more Time Lord than he was before, but this could mean a couple of things. Only time will tell for sure."

"You can't seriously think that my stupid theory is actually true?" Jack's voice hitched. "I mean, the universe isn’t really sentient, so it's not as if _it_ could've reached out and snatched him up!"

"Of course the universe isn’t sentient," Saxon bit back. "However, there's always a balance in everything that happens. If this balance is disturbed, it is quite possible for forces to act upon the need to stabilize the universe again."

"Like fate?" Martha said. "This is what we call fate," she continued, spinning her thought further. "If one event leads to another, shaping the world, then this is fate. And if it is a fixed point in time, then everything around it will converge on it, making sure if keeps happening."  
If Jack hadn't looked so closely, he would've probably not seen the surprised look fluttering across the Master's face. Clearly he hadn’t expected Martha to understand, or to be able to put everything into simple terms.

"So this means," Jack continued for her. "That there's something in our future, or maybe a few things in our future, where the Doctor is still crucial for. This is why this happened. What would've happened if the meta crisis hadn’t occurred? If there wasn’t a near perfect copy of him out there in alternate universe?"

"You don’t want to know," Saxon calmly answered.

"Right," Jack drawled. "End of life as we know it, I get it."

It made sense in a terrifying way. The Doctor had touched so many people, been involved in so many historic events all over the galaxies, that his sudden death would leave more than a gaping hole behind. However, everyone died sooner or later, even someone with a life span of a Time Lord.

This could only mean, that time was fluid, constantly changing. It hurt his head to think about it, which is why he usually refrained from doing it. He came from the 51st century. He'd been alive for centuries, spending a good part of those years on Earth. Had his immortality always been in his future? Or had it been an accident? He'd been to the future with the Doctor, would those events still take place if he'd truly died?

Then again, the Doctor's personal time line couldn’t possibly be confused with the linear time line everyone else was on. Well, most people. There were exceptions, like Time Agents.

Still, it was probably best to not nit-pick a perfectly good theory. Despite sounding far-fetched, it did have the ring of truth to it. And hadn't a perfectly brilliant man once said if _you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth_. Sherlock Holmes clearly had been on to something there!

Saxon walked back to the table, leaning against it. He held the gun deceptively low, but Jack wasn’t fooled. The guy was a coiled string, ready to snap.

"You can stay here," he told Saxon who raised an eye brow at him. "But I'll lock you in. I'm not having you run around unsupervised."

He expected the Master to protest, to put up a fight, but all he received was a curt nod. It startled him into inaction for a few seconds, before he turned around, his coat billowing dramatically behind him.

Once everyone had followed him outside, he locked the door. Ianto was already waiting for them in the conference room, tea and coffee ready on the table.

"Can you turn on the surveillance in the morgue? Bring it up on the screen behind us. I want to keep an eye on them."

"Of course." Seconds later, Ianto had done as he'd been told.

"Now," Jack grabbed a teaming mug of coffee before he draped himself with forced leisure into a chair. "What the fuck happened?"

It was perfectly clear his words were meant for Rose. She wrung her hands, dropping her gaze to the floor.

"Rose?" He prompted.

Martha sat down next to him, quietly thanking Ianto who took the other remaining chair opposite of her. Eventually, Rose sat down too.

"It's my fault." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I pushed him away. I couldn’t believe he was the same Doctor I had fallen in love with. I mean," she hastily added. "He isn’t, right? The Doctor is a Time Lord. Two hearts, long life span, Tardis…"

Jack simply stared at her. Her words weren’t without logic but he also couldn’t believe he she would've been too stupid to realize the one in a million chance she'd been given.

"It's not the body that counts," Martha interrupted. "It's the man underneath it. Sure," she added. "He might no longer be a Time Lord in the strictest sense, but he's still _the man_ you fell in love with. He's still our Doctor, just in a different package. All the events that shaped him into the person we know and love still happened."

"I know," she cried, flopping down so she could bang her had against the table. When she looked up again, tears were pooling in her eyes. "I'm an idiot."

Jack didn’t find it within him to protest. He agreed with her wholeheartedly. "But what happened? How did he end up with Saxon?"

"He must've realized how I felt," Rose continued, her voice small. "I didn’t mean for him to be hurt, but I guess I must've had one too many conversations with my mother. In her defence, she said the same thing as you, Martha."

Jack's fingers mapped out a perfect rhythm of tatum tatum on the table. Hopefully Rose would get to the point soon.

"He didn’t have any clothes, so he went shopping."

"Alone?"

"Pete sent a driver with him," Rose clarified.

Jack had to bit his lower lip from a nasty comment. She'd let the Doctor go on his own? Sure, the guy was more than capable of navigating strange worlds, but shouldn't she have been a bit more concerned about his well-being?

"He gave them the slip," she added. "It took Pete at least twenty four hours to rifle through all the CCTV cameras. I never knew how good he was at staying undetected. We wouldn't have found him at all, if one ATM camera didn’t catch a flash of him. When my father's men showed up, trying to corner him, Saxon's men showed up too. There was a fight, they knocked him out and took him."

"He hurt him?"

Rose gave him a significant look. Of course, Saxon would've hurt him.

"Then what?"

"Dad went into panic-mode," Rose continued. "Sure, he was all composed and calm about it, but I could tell."

"Saxon isn’t prime minister, is he?" Martha inquired.

"No, he isn’t." Rose put that fear to rest quickly. "However, Dad did have dealings with him before. We never knew he was an alien, just someone who likes to deal in alien artefacts. No wonder he was so good at figuring out what things were."

Jack nodded.

"Saxon has a reputation for being ruthless, for not leaving anyone a life who so much as looks at him funny. Dad recovered a few bodies. All scientists who used to work for Saxon."  
"So you saying this is why you're so sure Saxon experimented on the Doctor? Because he killed them all?"

"He wouldn’t leave anyone alive who knew about Time Lords…" Rose whispered. "He has no morals, no compassion. Dad tried to get closer to Saxon, to bribe someone on the inside but nothing worked. They are all too afraid of him."

"Then how did you end up with him and the Doctor?"

"Pete is the head of Torchwood. Saxon can't ignore him forever. So, Pete showed up one morning with an artefact Saxon couldn’t ignore, looking for advice on it. I tagged along. This is when the Doctor burst into the office."

"What did he look like?" Martha asked. Before Rose answered, she held up her hand. "Be specific. What can you recall? Did he move carefully? Did he favour any side? How was his skin? Pale? Flushed? Normal? Anything you could remember would help."

"At first," Rose answered after a few seconds, "he looked fine. He barged into the room as if he wasn’t worried about Saxon at all. He moved up close, whispered something into his ear. I thought he was standing a bit too close, but this is the Doctor, right? He's always been tactile."

Everyone nodded.

"It was when he turned, when he tried to move away, that Saxon grabbed him. He flinched, trying to move out of his embrace but he wouldn’t let go. I could see how unwanted his touches were. Plus the bruise on his cheek was kind of a dead giveaway that Saxon didn’t mind getting physical."

"Is there a precedent for it?" Martha asked, always the scientist, or doctor. "Is he known for roughing up his…" Her voice faltered, and Jack's mind stuttered to a halt because no, he couldn’t possible go there. "Is he known for roughing up his partners?" Martha did find the courage to finish the sentence.

It wasn't just Rose who looked slightly ill now. Even Ianto, who hadn't met the Doctor in person yet, looked a bit green around the nose.

Rose nodded. Martha might've been brave enough to speak the words out loud, but Rose clearly couldn’t do the same.

Jack swallowed audibly.

"It would make sense," Ianto spoke. Everyone jumped since these were the first few words he'd said since they'd all sat down.

"What would make sense?"

"I can only imagine," Ianto continued. "But if you think about it, it is obvious what happened."

"To you maybe," Jack muttered.

Ianto either hadn't heard him or he was ignoring him. It was probably the latter but it didn’t matter since he continued anyway without needing any further prompting. "I've read up on enough abusive relationships to know how it works."

"The Doc's a bit too smart to that, don’t you think?" Jack pointed out.

"Not necessarily," Martha carefully said. "This isn't about being smart, this is about being emotionally vulnerable and when Saxon showed up, the Doctor must've been in an awful place."

Rose only nodded. Jack stared, needing Martha to go on because he couldn’t possibly see how someone as smart, as self-assured as the Doctor could accept someone into his bed who liked to hurt him. The Doctor abhorred violence. Why would he put up with it on a personal level? He wouldn’t, that was the only answer which made sense.

Martha though seemed to disagree. "Imagine," she slowly said, chewing on her lower lip as she put her thoughts into words. "He's just lost everything. We've said he's still same man, still the same Doctor…"

Everyone ignored Rose's whimper. The mistake she'd made would be something which would haunt her for the rest of her life. Frankly, Jack didn’t find it within him to feel sorry for her. She'd been handed the most precious gift on a platter and she'd thrown it away. If it had been him, if he'd been given such a chance with the Doctor, well, he would've moved heaven and earth for him.

"So he still thinks of himself as a Time Lord. He still expects to have two hearts, still thinks he's got the same strengths as before, hell, he might even not understand yet what it means to only have one life. Not on an emotional level anyway. We know the Doctor has never stood still for a long period of time. He needs to run, to travel, to be among the stars. It is who he is. And now, from one second to the other, he's in a new body. Someone else is living the life he knows is his. He understands what happens, how could he not? But does he also accept it on an emotional level? Probably not. How could he? He's just lost everything, so he focuses on the one thing he still has. Rose."

"Me." Martha and Rose said at the same time. The two women shared a look before Martha continued to paint her horrible picture.

"We all knew that there was a special bond between the Master and the Doctor. We know he wanted to save him despite everything. And when he showed up, alive and well…"

"It would've been easy for him to manipulate the Doctor," Jack finished. "He was already an emotional mess. And someone as smart and ruthless as Saxon would've no problem at all to use this weakness to his advantage."

"We also know that the Doctor is a telepath," Rose slowly said, her face paling. "What do we know about Time Lords and that? Would it make matters worse if in his vulnerable state he would have someone to share his mind with?"

"Of course it would," Martha answered. "The Master is a piece of home for the Doctor. Plus they were at least best friends, as far as I could tell. He'd failed the Master once…No, Jack," she addressed him directly when Jack opened his mouth. "You know as well as I do, that despite all the horrific things the Master did, the Doctor still tried to save him. And when he couldn’t, when Lucy Saxon shot him, he grieved. Don’t you remember how he begged him to regenerate and what it did to him when he declined? When he refused to do it? It broke him, I know it did."

Jack nodded. He didn’t like where this was going, he hated the picture that was slowly emerging, but he couldn’t deny the truth in everything that was being said.

"So he's putting up with being hurt, with who knows what else, just because the Master was there when he needed someone?"

"It's not that simple…"

"I know, Martha," Jack had to fight the urge to yell at her. "But this is what it boils down to, isn’t it? The Doctor had nowhere to go, and Saxon used his vulnerable state against him. But now he has us. For better or worse, he's back home."

"You can't just walk up to him, tell him Saxon is evil, and think he'll take your word for it."

"But…"

"Didn’t you hear him say, we shouldn’t punish the ass for what his counterpart did?" Rose yelled. She got up, pacing the room. "He isn’t rational when it comes to him. He thinks he might be a good person. He's probably making all sorts of excuses for getting hurt."

"Like he doesn’t know his own strength, or like how Saxon keeps forgetting he's no longer a Time Lord, so of course he'd bruise easier. He didn’t mean to hurt him, it was an accident…" Ianto added, clarifying the situation for everyone.

"The horrible thing is," Martha slowly said into the sudden silence. "Is that the Doctor isn’t totally wrong."

"How can you say that!" Rose shouted.

"Of course, he's wrong," Jack allowed himself to raise his voice, getting him as well. He braced himself on the table, fingers digging into the hard surface.

"Saxon isn’t the same Time Lord who tortured my family, or who tortured the Doctor for a year. He isn’t the same man who tried to rule humanity," Martha explained.

"But…"

"No," Martha wouldn’t let Rose object. "How long do you think he was on your version of Earth? How much time did he have to take over? And what did he do? Nothing."

"But he still became powerful…" Rose pointed out.

"Yes," Martha agreed. "But he didn’t take over. He stayed in the shadows, dealing in alien merchandise. He might've built a power base, but he didn’t aim to rule the world."

Everyone stayed silent. It galled Jack to admit it but Martha had a point. He still didn’t trust the guy, he never would, but facts couldn’t be denied. "This will make it even harder for us to break Saxon's hold on the Doctor."

"I know," Martha nodded. "But it's not hopeless. He trusts us, especially you, Jack. You need to make sure that doesn’t change. If you're around, Saxon will have to be extra careful."

"If he so much as touched him, if he so much as…?"

"Raped him?" Ianto bluntly said. "From what Rose said, it can't technically be classified as rape. I don’t think he tried to run screaming from the room."

"I think he would've said no," Jack theorized. "I mean come on, how many people tried to get into the Doctor's pants? Rose…did you manage?"

"What?" She blushed.

"Before you got stranded on the alternate world, did you and the Doctor ever consummate your love?"

"No."

"There you go," Jack pointed out. "If he were the guy who would sleep easily with other people, Rose would've been able to do the deed. Hell, I would've at least been able to get a blow job out of him. But I've never seen him so much as kiss willingly, or flirt with intent. So if Saxon managed to go all the way with him, then the Doctor clearly wouldn’t have been totally on board with it. Not at first at least."

"Your logic is sound," Martha slowly said. "But don’t forget. We hardly know anything about Time Lords. He might look human, but for all we know, he might only be able to go all the way with someone of his species."

"I don’t think…"

"You don’t have to think at all," Martha said somewhat harshly. "The point is we don’t know. We can only assume at this stage."

"I'm fairly certain Saxon slept with him," Rose heatedly said. "You didn’t see him touching him. The way his hands landed on his body, the touches were intimate. And you didn’t see the Doctor leaning away from them. No, however it happened, they most certainly had sex."

"Well, let's call it dubious consent then."

"I don’t think that's much better than rape," Jack pointed out.

"I think the point Martha is trying to make," Ianto calmly stated. "Is that we don’t know, and that we should tread carefully. Saxon is probably going to end up hurting him, even if he hasn’t done so already, but if we act rashly, he'll win."

Jack nodded. He wanted nothing more than to rush downstairs, grab Saxon and shove him into a holding cell. To him, dubious consent was exactly the same thing as rape. It was just a way of mincing words. He wouldn’t dare to assume he knew the Doctor well, but he knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t have just tumbled into the sack with Saxon. He wasn’t the type, regardless of how happy he would've been at finding his so called friend again. Alien physiology aside, Jack would bet his on cock on the subject. And this wasn’t something he would wager with lightly.

"How do we proceed then?" Rose demanded to know. "If we can't lock Saxon up, or better, dispose of him, what do we do?"

"We make sure, he's got no reason to try and persuade the Doctor to leave. We must make sure, they're staying here."

"Well," Martha pointed out with a wide grin. "Without a Tardis, it isn’t as if they could go far."

Jack frowned. They did have the Tardis. He knew where it was parked. He blinked. _Oh_. "You cheeky girl," he returned her smile. "We don’t know where he parked the Tardis, so for a while they will need to stay put."

"Plus," Martha confirmed. "We still don’t know how well he actually is. And whatever faults this version of Saxon has, he clearly cares enough about the Doctor to want to make sure no harm comes to him."

"Unfortunately," Jack mumbled. Weaning the Doctor off Saxon's poisonous influence would've been so much easier, if the Time Lord didn’t care at all. But even Jack could see that in his own disturbed way, Saxon cared. No one hovered like he had otherwise.

He shuddered when he thought about the destructive relationship those two must have. And there was something else that bothered him greatly. Even in a vulnerable state, the Doctor was smart enough to know where to draw the line between rough affection and abuse. And yet, from all accounts, he hadn't tried to escape Saxon's hold. This could mean a few things, but Jack feared it might mean something even far worse. What if they'd been lovers before? What if, before Saxon had gone mental, before the Doctor had lost everything he'd ever held dear, what if those two had already been together? And what if, even back then, their relationship had been destructive? It would explain why the Doctor wasn’t even batting an eyelash at it now.

The guy was far too smart to fall for it otherwise. But falling into an old habit? Yes, Jack could totally see the Doctor doing something like that. Especially when getting a second chance.

He didn’t voice his thoughts out loud because he feared it might make everyone worry more. He realized something else though. Rose had lost her chance. Any influence she might've had to sway the Doctor, she lost when she pushed him away. And the Doctor didn’t believe in second chances. Form what Jack could see, Rose had already gotten more than one chance. There was no way in hell, the Doctor would let her back into his heart after she'd pushed him away so cruelly. Frankly, Jack didn’t know if he would act any differently. But knowing what kind of man the Doctor was, he was willing to bet on it.

He glanced at Martha. Sure, she would love a chance at snagging the Doctor's heart but they all knew it wasn’t going to happen. The Doctor cared for her, but he didn’t want her in the same way she did.

This only left him. Did he have a chance? He'd liked to think so but was this just wishful thinking? He looked away, staring into nothing. He'd always felt a special connection to the Doctor, ever since they'd met during the Blitz in 2nd World War London. They'd argued, they'd had fun, and they'd flirted. More on his part maybe than on the Doctor's, but there had always been something _intangible_ there between them. When Rose had brought him back from the dead, things had changed. The Doctor had shied away from him, but this hadn't been because of Jack, it had been because of what Jack had turned into.

But would it matter? He was still immortal. He was still _wrong_. He looked at Rose, at Martha and then at his good friend, and lover, Ianto. Out of all of them here, he was the only one who had a chance of getting through to the Doctor. He would expect Jack to flirt, to try and push his luck because this was who Jack was.

And he would also listen. He might protest, he might yell and try to tune him out, but the Doctor also knew that Jack had lived a long time. His word carried weight. Jack would just have to be careful not to push his luck too much.

Besides, Rose had gotten her chance with the Doctor. Maybe it was his turn now? He'd loved the man for much longer than she had. But did that mean he was entitled to a chance? No, he shook his head at himself. He couldn’t think like that. The Doctor was his friend. Nothing else should matter. Sure, he loved him. Yes, he would love to shoot Saxon in the head. But even if the Doctor would never return his feelings, he would still try to look out for him.

Because this is what you did when you loved someone. You put their needs before yours.


	6. Chapter 6

When the shit hit the fan, it came out of nowhere. Barely a day in the old universe, and here he was, yet again running for his life. Still sans Tardis. Apparently Jack didn’t know where it was parked. As if! But before he could argued his point, things spiralled out of control on such a rapid scale that there honestly hadn’t been any time to mince words with Captain Jack.  
Thankfully, though, he'd been able to find a safe sand box for the baby Tardis. "Kosh!" He yelled, gesturing wildly towards him. His lover glanced over his shoulder briefly before he went right back to ignoring him, running towards the bomb instead of away from it. "Damn the idiot," the Doctor muttered. Was this how everyone usually felt around him? Well, he would hope he was smarted than Harry at the moment. He would only run towards about to explode multi-dimensional bombs if there was a fraction of a chance of surviving. Contrary to popular believe he wasn’t suicidal. If there was no chance of deactivating it, then wouldn’t his time better spent on containing it? What good would it be for anyone if he blew himself up on some futile, and doomed, attempt?

He dashed around the corner, heading into the opposite direction of the Master. He didn’t have the time to try and stop him. He skidded to a halt in front of a control panel. He used his newly retrieved sonic screwdriver to open it up. Wires popped out almost instantly, as if someone had lashed open a stomach. He cringed. Bad comparison, really, bad comparison.

He chewed thoughtfully on his lower lip as he got to work.

"Can you do it?" Jack asked, coming to stand beside him, his huge gun pointed at the hallway. And no, huge gun wasn’t a metaphor. The Doctor ducked his head, fighting a blush. He was more than half Time Lord again, and he still couldn’t control some human urges. _Thanks, Donna_ , he thought sarcastically.

"Ow," he complained when he got sapped. He retrieved his finger, putting it into his mouth to suck on it while balancing the screwdriver with his other free hand. "Mbhdhwhat?" He mumbled at Jack, unable to properly pronounce the word _what_ at the moment.

"Nothing," Jack hastily said, breaking eye contact. Ever since he'd woken up in the Torchwood morgue, Jack had been odd. At first, he'd attributed it to having to tolerate Koschei's presence. Hell, Jack had enough reason to hate him, the Doctor didn’t fault him for being wary. He'd only seen the bad side, the crazy side, of the Master. He'd never gotten to know the _real_ him. But one day later, Jack still sent odd glances his way. He also seemed to delight to step into his space, pressing close for no good reason. Sooner or later, Koschei was going to do something about it. The Doctor didn’t mind. He didn’t care. He liked hugs, being touched, being close to other people. He wasn’t naïve enough though to assume that this was all Jack was doing. The comparison wasn’t flattering but if the Doctor were a tree, then both Jack and the Master would be dogs, trying to pee on it to mark their territory. Frankly, he honestly didn’t want to see what a pissing match between those two would degenerate into.

There, he was so close. The Doctor leaned closer, shoving the precious screwdriver into his pocket. He reached out, and got yanked backwards. "Jack!" He yelled in exasperation at the same time as Jack started firing. His ears started to ring from the weapon being discharged in the small hallway. He scrambled back to his feet, returning to his previous job. As long as he didn’t get a direct hit, he'd be fine. Besides, if this didn’t work, who cared? Not only their universe would blow to pieces, anything adjacent to it would too! The blast would translate from one universe to the next until it ran out of steam, and there was no way to know for sure how many universes it would destroy before that happened! So, in the grand scheme of things, who cared if he got shot?

"I got this," Ianto ran past them, holding an equally impressive gun of his own. "You cover the Doctor." Seconds later, he was gone.

There…all done. With his tongue peeking out, the Doctor straightened up, brushing past Jack so he could get to the other panel. His time sense was still sorely lacking but it was better than it had been on Pete's world. He couldn’t narrow the countdown down to seconds, but he knew they had made two or three minutes left before they would be vaporised.

Time aplenty to finish this. He yanked the cover off the wall. Then he put his head into it. He'd only gone maybe half way into the wall before Jack grabbed him by the hips, hauling him backwards.

"Jack! I don’t have the time to explain this. Let me go!"

"You're not crawling into the wall."

"I have to!" The Doctor stepped on Jack's foot who reduced the pressure on his hips long enough for him to shuffle back into wall. Really, he didn’t have to go all the way. Jack lifted him up, apparently having decided to aid him rather than hinder him. For a few seconds, the world seemed to stop. The Doctor's breathing hitched. Jack's hands were warm, and strong, on his hip, holding him up. His legs were awkwardly spread with Jack pressing in on him. Since when was he this aware of his friend?

The moment passed. The Doctor took a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly. This was going to hurt. But, if the shield was going to go up on time, there was no other way. If he could invert the power, point it inwards rather than outwards, then the bomb would destroy parts of the ship but its destructive effect would not spread outwards. What would happen to those caught within the blast radius, he didn’t have the time to fathom. 

Unless, Koschei managed to either disable the bomb or maybe even just to deactivate the dimensional shift. It was more likely though, that he would fail. Changing the shield was much easier than trying to rewrite the detonation code. This was why the Doctor hadn’t bothered with going towards the bomb.

10

9

8

7

He continued the countdown in his head, hoping that his internal clock wasn’t too far off. He should be able to withstand the pain for a few seconds, but if he was off by more than ten? He shuddered.

When he reached 5, he took yet another steadying deep breathe before he reached out, pushing his bare hand right into the plasma stream. His skin tingled. Then, it started to burn. Wide eyed he stared ahead, focusing all he had on not pulling back.

1

Nothing happened. He held on. He bit down on his lower lip until he tasted blood. He couldn’t afford to scream. Screaming would distract him. It might also prompt Jack into pulling him back before he should. He wheezed, his breathing becoming laboured. He squeezed his eyes shut again, unable to keep them trained on anything any longer. His hand shook, but by using his other free hand to steady it, he kept it in place. He never faltered, not once.

His head slumped forward. Darkness slowly crept around the edges, circling him like only a predator would. The ground shook. Sudden movement had him gasping, fighting with nausea.  
"What the fuck did you do?" Jack yelled at him, shaking him by the shoulder.

Tired, he was so tired. He hadn't even noticed that Jack hauled him out of the wall.

Koschei!

The thought had him reeling upwards, any pain momentarily forgotten. He turned on his feet, running towards the engine room.

"Doctor!"

He ignored Jack. He scanned his surroundings, noting how everything seemed untouched. Both he and Jack and he been close to the blast radius. As a matter of fact, it had been just a few meters away. Had the bomb not gone off? But the ground had been shaken, right?

"Koschei!" He screamed, not caring if the name was supposed to be private or not. Right now, all that mattered was finding out what the hell had happened.

He stumbled into the engine room, and into another world. Broken metal pieces were strewn left and right. The ceiling looked as if it was about to collapse. As a matter of fact, the stairs he tried to take to get to the ground, crumbled underneath his weight. He barely managed to adjust his footing in time. He landed on the ground, his eyes frantically searching through the debris.

The bomb had gone off. But they were still here. So it hadn't been able to spread its destruction to any other universe. However, even with that part disabled, the blast radius should've pressed against the Doctor's shield. It looked as if it had bounced, attempting to stream outwards, only to be pressed right back down to its origin. Still, if this had happened, then the detonation should've ripped the ship apart!

Nothing made sense!

"Over here," he heard Ianto yelling.

The Doctor carefully made his way towards the voice. "What did you do?" He asked as he saw the Master's prone form on the ground. He hovered, unable to move for a few seconds, afraid of what he would fine. When the Master groaned, a low and pitiful sound emanating from his lips, he flung himself onto the ground without any further consideration at all.

"What did you do?" He asked again, grabbing Koschei's face. He blinked, his eyes slowly opening.

"I needed an outlet," he mumbled.

"You didn’t…" The Doctor replied. "Tell me you didn’t push the entire blast into one unsuspecting universe!"

The Master gave him a look which read _why the fuck not? Better them than us, right?_.  
"He didn’t," Ianto answered. The Doctor didn’t even know he'd been holding his breath until Jack's friend spoke those words. "He said he would try to disperse it."

"What?"

"I couldn’t contain it," Koschei pushed the Doctor's hands away, moving into a sitting position with extreme slow motions. "I would've needed more time to alter the code so completely. So I did the next best thing."

The Doctor's eyes widened. His mouth formulated a quiet _oh_. "Brilliant," he enthused, a wide smile spreading across his face. "This is brilliant! You added more variables, spreading it out over more and more universes, making the blast almost negligible!"

He leaned forward, planting a quick kiss to the Master's mouth before he got onto his feet. His excessive energy demanded for him to move. He paced up and down, wringing his hands while smiling like a loon. "You still had to let some of the blast push back here, since this is the point of origin, but with my shield going up, it didn’t do any more damage than a normal bomb would have. Brilliant," he repeated, almost jumping up and down. "Just brilliant!"

Right at this moment, the ship lunged, tilting to the right. Everyone, and everything not nailed down, tumbled sideways.

"We're going to crash!" Ianto yelled from somewhere.

As if on cue, the lights went out. A low, mournful sound could be heard travelling through the ship, as if old metal was slowly succumbing to fatigue. Before the whole craft could turn up side down, entering a dangerous tailspin into the atmosphere, it steadied. It stopped its tilt at about 30% from the normal plane of flight. 

The Doctor quickly got onto his feet, carefully holding his hand away from his body. It still hurt like hell. There was no way to know what damage had been done to his nerves but for now, there was no time to dwell on it. They had to get off this blasted ship! If Jack hadn't hidden the Tardis for no good reason, they wouldn’t be in this blasted problem. He grumbled.  
"Let's go," The Master grabbed him by the upper arm, shoving him towards the exit. Ianto went ahead, the gun ready.

They had to get back to the cockpit. The alien's ship didn’t have any shuttle bay, so the only way for them to get on board had been to use the transporter. It had been somewhat of a challenge to arrive right in the most populated spot, but Jack had proven rather effective with a gun. Plus, his two associates seemed to be not shy about using the weapons either. He still puzzled over the stupidity of some beings. Who'd ever heard of a ship without a docking bay? How did they manage to travel to distant space stations? Constantly emitting a transporter frequency so that the alien with the right gadget could latch onto it and transport himself on board seemed like a perfect way to set themselves up for being hijacked. Then again, should he really complain? Their stupidity had after all allowed them to do just that. 

When they encountered Jack in the hallway, heading towards them, Ianto asked. "Where's Gwen?"

"She radioed in. The transporter still seems to be functioning. But if there are any aliens left, they'll surely be heading towards her by now."

The Doctor saw Ianto giving Jack a wry smile. "If they try anything funny, they won't know what hit them. No one gets past Gwen."

When the ship lunged again, the Doctor reached out, stabilising himself by placing his hand onto the wall. Big mistake. He hissed, yanking the limb back as fast as he could. He cradled it to his chest, thankful no one seemed to have noticed. When they approached Gwen's station, they could hear gun shots in the distance. However, before they could help her, they stopped.  
They turned a corner. He noticed the relieved slump of Ianto's shoulders when they found Gwen standing over two dead alien bodies. She seemed unharmed, and in remarkably good spirits. Truly, Jack had gathered a rather crazy bunch of people as his team. But he couldn’t deny their effectiveness.

"Everyone here?" Jack turned, quickly glancing at everyone. "Punch it, Gwen," he ordered.  
Seconds later, they materialized in Torchwood. Gwen immediately sprinted towards the console, her fingers tying frantically. "The ship's just entered the atmosphere."

"Is it going to burn up? Or are we going to have to worry about impact?" Jack asked, walking up to her so he could lean against the metal frame, peering down at the computer screen.

"From the trajectory, it should crash into the Atlantic somewhere here." She pointed at the screen.

"I'll inform UNIT. They should have a ship out there somewhere they can send to intercept."

"What will we tell the world? The ship's a bit too big to go unnoticed," Ianto asked.

"Meteor? Crashed weather satellite? You pick one," Jack answered.

The Doctor quietly walked away, thankful no one paid him any attention. He should've known better. Seconds after entering the morgue, now also referred to as med bay, the Master entered.

"Let me see," he demanded.

"It's nothing," the Doctor tried to deflect.

The Master rolled his eyes. "You've never been good at keeping your thoughts locked away. Not with me. Don’t you think I didn’t notice you got hurt?"

The Doctor cringed, steeling his mental shields. It was sadly true. The connection between the Master and him worked more in Koschei's favour than in his since Koschei had always been better at keeping his shields up. The Doctor was pretty good at keeping other people out, but not his best friend. It was a failing on his part.

He sat down on the trolley, holding out his hand. There was no point in arguing with the Master. Besides, he might not want to admit to being in pain, but there was really no point in self-punishment.

The Master picked up a nearby scanner, running it over his hand. "Hm."

"Hm – what?"

"You've got some nerve damage," Koschei slowly said, pronouncing each word carefully. "The good news is that if you're in pain, that means your never endings are all intact. The bad news is I don’t know if you're able to regenerate anything."

"Why should I be able to?" The Doctor asked. "I'm not a full Time Lord. Last time I checked, the other me told me I would only have one life span. This means, I don’t have any regeneration powers at all."

"And since then you took on his life essence, or have you forgotten? You're also less human now than you were when we met. All thanks to him dying, and you taking part of your essence back. So you might be able to repair the damage."

The Doctor thoughtfully chewed on his lower lip.

"If not," the Master continued. "The pain should die down soon. Right now, the nerve endings are stimulated. Over time, the pain will ease, but unless you can regenerate, you're looking to constant pain."

"Brilliant," The Doctor said without his usual enthusiasm. He took his hand back, putting it gingerly into his lap.

"Let's way until tomorrow," the Master decided.

The Doctor nodded. There was always hope, right?


	7. Chapter 7

He leaned into the touch, his whole body vibrating with pleasure. His toes curled as goose bumps broke out over every inch of his skin. His back arched off the bed. He gasped, suddenly breathless. His release caught him by surprise. He plunged over the edge, screaming the Master's name.

His body shook as he fell back down onto the mattress. Even his damaged nerve endings were humming in contentment, telegraphing nothing but good emotions right back to him. His single heart beat frantically, trying to keep the blood flow going.

Harry gave him a wicked grin as the Doctor's cock slit out his mouth. "You've got something…there…" The Doctor leaned up, wiping a strand of come off his lover's face.

He slowly closed his eyes, allowing the sated feeling to spread throughout his body. Koschei settled in next to him, draping an arm across his chest. Before he knew it, the Doctor was out cold.

##

When he woke up, he found Koschei staring at him.

"What is it?" He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. He still wasn’t used to needing this much sleep. Sure, he slept less than an ordinary human but his requirements were still above what a Time Lord needed.

"I'm going to let you go."

The Doctor blinked. His mind stuttered to halt. _What_? His mouth hung open. This wasn’t his most flattering look but right now, he didn’t care. He narrowed his eyes. What was Koschei talking about?

"You're going to let me go?"

"Do you have to repeat everything I say?"

"If you aren’t making any sense, then yes!"

"You don’t love me."

"What?" The Doctor sat up instantly, fully alert. "How can you say that?"

"Because it's true."

"Koschei!"

"You care for me," his lover continued. "You love me as your brother. But you're not _in love_ with me. Our bond can't strengthen into what you need."

"You're delusional," The Doctor declared. "You can't just make this up. Or…" His voice faltered. He swallowed hard. Was this Harry's way of getting rid of him? Had he had his fun and now he was being cast aside? He loved the Master, he did. With all his hearts, well, heart now, but the point remained the same. Surely, he must know that! But he wasn't blind to Kochei's faults. Far from it even.

"You're forgetting that you're terrible at keeping your thoughts locked away from me," the Master pointed out. "Especially during orgasm."

"Koschei…"

"You love me, I know."

The Doctor blinked, getting confused.

"You enjoy our time together, and I know you wouldn’t stray. But if you look deep enough into your own mind, you'll find that you've given your heart to someone else."

"Don't be daft," the Doctor counted. "You've been my best friend since we were toddlers. We've done everything together. Recent madness aside, we've always had each other's backs."

"Yes," the Master easily agreed. "And I've enjoyed the physical side of our relationship very much. And you're always going to be mine. Anyone trying to take you away from me will be in a world of trouble. And don’t you dare try to sneak away from me either!"

The Doctor blinked. Now his head hurt. The Master was making less and less sense the more he spoke.

"This part of our relationship is over. If we don’t break it off, if I keep drowning in your thoughts, eventually I will start to resent you for not fully returning my feelings. You know what I do with people I don’t like, right? I never want to get to the state where I have no choice but to kill you. You mean too much to me. It would not only destroy me, but also you."

Without waiting for any reply, the Master got up and walked out of the room, leaving the Doctor behind, gaping.

What the hell had just happened?

He was still baffled half an hour later as he made his way towards the small kitchen. Bunking in one of the small rooms in Torchwood had its advantages. One of them was a steady stream of tea since Ianto seemed to always magically know when someone required the brilliant elixir of life. This morning wasn’t any different. A streaming mug was already waiting for him when he approached the coffee station. He snatched up Jack's mug, heading towards the Captain's office.

He had to put some distance between him and the Master. Right now, anger churned his stomach, making him gag. If the anger didn’t rear its ugly head, then his heart seemed to be breaking, threatening to split apart as if he'd been cut in two. If he'd faced Koschei now, he had no clue how he would react.

Jack though? Jack was safe. His basic telepathic abilities ensured he was a safe person to be around. He could lower his shields a bit, be less on guard. Sure, there was still the fact that Jack's very existence was an abnormality, but either he'd gotten used to it, or being no longer a full Time Lord had dulled his senses. Either way, being in Jack's presence no longer made his skin crawl. It was actually kind of nice.

"I brought you your coffee," he said as he entered.

Jack grunted, snatching the mug up before the Doctor could put it onto the table.

"Are you done lying to me about the Tardis?" The Doctor inquired as he casually sat down in the chair opposite of Jack.

"What makes you think I'm lying?" Jack didn’t look up.

"Your sensors aren’t calibrated to pick up a cloaked ships. The only way you could've known about the approaching danger is if the Tardis alerted you to its presence. She does have proximity sensors, especially when she's on the ground. She would've picked up on the dangerous energy emitted by the dimension bomb. And you're linked with her. Not like me, but you've travelled with her, and you're telepathic. She would've contacted you."

"Then why didn’t she contact you?" Jack challenged. "By your very reasoning, you should've been able to sense her. And yet, you didn’t."

The Doctor nodded sadly. He continued to chew on his lower lip, only remembering to stop doing it when he tasted blood. "I've been worried about it for some time. I should've been able to sense her. I can feel a niggling in the back of my head. I know she's nearby, but somehow I can't pinpoint the location. It isn't right. Maybe it's because I'm not right? Maybe she's rejecting me? I don’t know," the Doctor continued to rapidly say. "The point is, you could've only figured out about the ship in orbit if the Tardis told you. This meant you must've been inside her. So you're lying when you say you don’t know where she is. So, let's try this again. Where's my ship?"

Jack finally looked up, staring at him. "I'm not going to tell you," he blandly said.

"Excuse me?" The Doctor didn’t believe his ears. Not only wasn’t he good enough to keep the Master's interest, but was Jack also insinuating he wasn’t good enough for the Tardis? He narrowed his eyes. He fought down the anger slowly trying to rise because nothing good would come out of him losing his composure. Wasn’t this why he'd been stuck in Pete's world to begin with? Because his other-self had thought he was too volatile, too much of a danger to be left unsupervised? He'd been wrong, of course, but it still galled to see the same sentiment reflected in Jack. He'd hoped his friend would know better, trust him at least. Apparently he'd been wrong. Was this a new trend? He didn’t like it one bit.

"You heard me," Jack held his gaze without flinching under the Doctor's heated stare. "I'm not going to tell you where the Tardis is because the moment I do, you're off to the stars."

The Doctor narrowed his eyes. "It's what I do," he simply answered. "You can't keep her from me."

"Not forever, no," Jack admitted. "But I can keep you landlocked for a while longer."

"But why?"

Jack gave him a droll look. It telegraphed clearly he thought the Doctor was being slow on the uptake. He resisted wringing his hands because his hand still hurt. Less than last night, but he was still in some discomfort.

Wait. He blinked, looking down. He flexed his fingers. He should be in more pain than he was in right now. Did this mean he'd at least partially regenerated?

"Can you shoot me?" The Doctor looked up. "Not any place fata, just grace me maybe? The arm? Yes, the arm would be good. Wouldn’t hinder my mobility at all, and it would be easy to treat."

"Come again?"

"Has your hearing been damaged?" The Doctor inquired. "I asked you to shoot me."

"Why would I shoot you?" Jack jumped to his feet, practically run across his desk. He hauled the Doctor to his feet, grabbing him by the shoulders in a bruising grip. "Do you have a death wish?"

"Bah," the Doctor answered, rolling his eyes. "I want to test if I can affect at least partial regeneration." He held up his hand, flexing his fingers to prove his point. "I injured my hand yesterday, and look, almost no pain today. There should still be quite severe nerve damage…and there isn’t!"

"You're hurt?"

Jack let go of his shoulders, turning slightly so he could put the Doctor's hand gently into his as if he was holding something fragile. When he tried to pull back, Jack's fingers locked around his wrist.

"Did someone check you over? I'm not trusting your word on your health. You've never been good at keeping yourself out of harm's way."

The Doctor snorted. This particular complaint coming from Jack was hilarious. "You're one to talk," he muttered. "Harry ran some tests. My hand's fine, don’t worry. Now," he paused for a few seconds. "Will you shoot me or not?"

"How about you just give yourself a little cut? No need for any drastic violence."

"Sure," the Doctor easily agreed. He hadn't thought about doing something this small, but he figured as an initial test, it would work. A few seconds ticked past, nothing happened. "You going to release my hand? Or are you going to do it yourself?"

"Sit," Jack barked, letting go off him, and pushing him back onto the chair. He snatched a letter opener from the table before he turned back to the Doctor. Without any further words, the Doctor held out his good hand. Jack carefully cut his palm. It stung, just as expected.

"Now what?" Jack asked.

"Now we wait," the Doctor declared.

"Can't you command it? Weren't you able to initiate it before?"

The Doctor shrugged. "Yes and no," he answered. "It's kind of like breathing. You do it automatically, but you can also think consciously about what you're doing. This is the same thing. However, I seem to be unable to achieve anything when I tried to force it. Maybe it's now only an instinctual reaction?"

It would kind of make sense. He was more Time Lord than human, thanks to his recent influx of Time Lord essence, but he was still a far cry away from being who he used to be. Or remembered being since the argument could be made that he, he personally, actually never was a full Time Lord. He'd been born half human.

"Look, it's gone," Jack suddenly exclaimed. 

The Doctor had to result to force to get his hand back. He stared down at his palm. There wasn’t a trace of injury left. "Guess this answers the question," he mused, frowning slightly. "But how far will regeneration go? It clearly doesn’t seem to heal 100%, so what type of injury can I sustain before it become critical? Could I still regenerate enough to overcome death?"

"You're not going to hurt yourself, nor are you going to try and get yourself killed just to figure this out," Jack sternly told him.

"Jack," the Doctor aimed for his most reasonable voice. "I have no desire to seriously maim myself, but I need to know my limits. I'm clearly more than a human and less than a Time Lord. Knowing exactly what the difference is might be the difference between life and death one day. I need to know how much I can push myself…"

Jack folded his arms across his chest, looking quite foolish. "I won't let you."

The Doctor grinned. "You're sweet," he told Jack which earned him a magnificent glare. The Doctor's smile only brightened. "No, really. You honestly think you can stop me? You're adorable…just brilliantly adorable…yes, you are…" To prove his point, he made the cooing noises he'd heard humans made over pets or babies.

Jack flushed red.

"But you're right on one thing," the Doctor admitted. "I do need someone to observe. Harry would be the best choice. He isn’t overly burdened by…"

"Oh, hell no!" Jack's yell had the Doctor stopping mid-sentence. 

"He's still my friend," The Doctor defended Harry. "He might no longer want me, but…"  
"What do you mean by him not wanting you?"

"Drink your coffee," he told Jack. "You're clearly not awake enough yet for a grown up conversation."

"You admit to having a sexual relationship with the bastard?"

"Mind your tone," The Doctor chastised Jack. "He hasn’t done anything to harm you."  
"No," Jack dryly answered. "He's only harmed you."

"He's never harmed me."

"I guess you hurt your cheek by yourself then? How'd you do it? Bang your head against the mirror until you go the bruise just right? And what the way he constantly tries to grab you? You must've noticed how you shy away from his touch…"

"He just lost control," The Doctor said dismissively. "He lashed out, forgetting I bruise more easily now. It's not as if…well, I might've…"

"What?" Jack challenged in a perceptively calm voice. "You might've been asking for it?" He finished the sentence the Doctor had started.

"Err…" The Doctor knew enough not to answer _that_ question. He could practically see the alarm signs flaring up before him. Jack seemed to be hell bent to misunderstand everything he said.

"Look," the Doctor was rapidly losing his patience. "Yes, we shared a bed. No, we aren’t doing it anymore because he decided I've given my heart to someone else." The last bit was said with added sarcasm.

"You've fallen in love with someone else?"

"No! I love K…Harry!" The Doctor exclaimed, unable to keep his voice at a civilized level any more. "But _he_ thinks I love someone else. He decided to _let me go_ because otherwise he might end up resenting me one day. Because apparently I don’t love him as he loves me. And he doesn’t want to end up hurting me one day."

Jack stared at him.

"What?"

"Who do you love then?"

"I don’t love anyone else!" The Doctor repeated. "I've known Harry since we were children. Sure, I never thought about him in sexual terms before he…"

"Before he what?"

"Before he showed me what I was missing…"

"Before he overwhelmed you by using your telepathic connection," Jack corrected. "He basically mind-whammied you into submitting to him. He overloaded your virgin brain…"

"You make me sound as if I'd never had enjoyed sex before."

"You did?"

"Do you honestly think I reached 900 years of age without putting out at least once?" The Doctor asked incredulously.

"Don’t you want to do it with your own species? I mean the telepathic link sounds kind of important."

"It's not as if I lost my planet the moment I was born!" The Doctor returned. "I had a life there…" he added. "Anyway," he continued. "This part of our relationship was new. And now it's over."

"Because you love someone else and he's being extremely good in letting go so he doesn't end up killing you down the line?"

"You know how he is," the Doctor told him. "Harry's intense. He can't do anything half way. If he thinks I'm not fully committed to a true bond with him, then he's right. He would eventually start to hate me. I've never been able to completely shield myself from him. I might be able to keep others out, but not him."

"So he's right…"

The Doctor opened his mouth to protest but then he shut it with an audible click. Was Koschei right? Did he really love someone else? The only one he could think about ever having such strong feelings for was Rose, and frankly, after what she put him through recently, he no longer felt like that way towards her. Actually, it was kind of alarming how quickly his love for her had died. What would've happened if she had supported him? If she had accepted him for who he was? Would they be in a relationship now?

"What about Rose?"

"No, it's not her. Not any more at least."

"Could he still have meant her though? You did have strong feelings for her once."

"No," The Doctor answered with finality. "He didn’t reference the past. He wouldn’t let me go for something I have already put behind me. No, he said I still have feelings for this person…"

The Doctor frowned. Who could it be? Martha? He liked her, he admired her, but he didn’t think of her along those terms. Donna? Hell no, was the only thing that came to mind when he thought of his last travelling companion. She was like a sister to him.

Did he have to cast his mind further back?

Jack's lips were on his. His tongue sought entrance while he pulled the Doctor flush against his body. He was so startled that he moved along without any protest. He put his hands on Jack's hips, steading himself. Jack deepened the kiss, exploring the Doctor's mouth. Someone groaned, low and throaty. His eyes fluttered shut. Shivers broke out all over his body. When had his knees gotten this weak?

Suddenly the connection broke. Jack shoved him backwards, causing him to stumble. Wait…when had he gotten up? He shot Jack a confused look. The rascal grinned, staring at him. "Will you consider me?"

Blink.

1 second.

2 seconds.

"What?"

"Take me for a test drive," Jack reasonably answered. "You're a logical guy, right? Most of the times at least. So try me out. Maybe it's me…I'm too awesome for you admit straight away that you love me. So obviously you buried your attraction to me by pushing me away."  
The Doctor gaped. Jack was shameless, no news there. But this? This…had merit. He crooked his head. He'd never thought about Jack in sexual terms before. As a matter of fact, every time Jack had made a pass at him, he'd pushed him away or ignored him. And yet, Jack had never been far from his thoughts. He'd always assumed it was guilt for his part in Jack's immortality, but what if there was more to it?

As much as it pained him, the Master did have a point. And if he was wrong, well, it would serve Harry right if he replaced him this quickly. The Doctor wasn’t someone you could just discard like a used blanket. 

"All right then," he said. Jack's surprise clearly showed on his face. His mouth was hanging open. He was making sounds like a dry fish caught on land. "I'll take you for a test drive."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go. I am still fairly new to this fandom, so please excuse any errors I might've made. It is all for fun anyway, right?


	8. Chapter 8

To say Jack had a case of _the nerves_ would be apt. He'd never been self-conscious. Not since he'd been a teenager at least. He knew he had looks, he had charm, and was downright brilliant in the act. Yet now, he stood there, at the edge of the bed, rooted to the spot. The only portion of him able to twitch was his cock, because nothing could keep _him_ down!

When the Doctor had so casually said _I'll take you for a test drive_ , he'd assumed they were talking about an arbitrary date in the future. The last thing he would've expected was for the Doctor to grab his hand, and to drag him back to the room he'd shared with the Master. Jack shivered. If he thought about the devil incarnate, then even the very active part of him was going to deflate.

"Is this how you handle all your conquests?" The Doctor's voice brought him back to reality. "Stare at them until they come out of boredom?"

_A challenge_.

Jack quickly yanked his shirt over his head. His long coat had hit the ground already, seconds after he'd entered the room. He turned slightly, bending down to take off his shoes. He knew fully well it showed off his rear to all its advantage. As if on cue, there was the sharp intake of breath. Whatever the outcome, Jack would happily remember this moment. The moment when he'd learned that the Doctor at least desired him on a physical level. For so long he'd thought the handsome alien could merely tolerate him. For a few precious trips, he'd even upgraded this to _like_ until the Doctor had simply left him behind without thinking twice about it. Their next encounter had spooked the Tardis into running to the edge of the universe. The Doctor hadn't been any happier to see him either, at least not at first.

But apparently, under the casual front, the Doctor had at least harboured some secret attraction to him. It was a good point as any to start.

Since he had no intention of pretending to be something he wasn't, Jack not only pulled off his trousers, he removed his undergarments along with them. When he turned around to face the Doctor, he presented himself fully in the nude. His cock made him proud, standing to attention.

It was still hard to see the Doctor as a sexual being. Sure, he'd snatched up a fair share of hearts along the way, but Jack had never seen him engage in anything that required physical intimacy. He would've thought Rose had broken down the barrier but apparently he'd been wrong on that front too.

And no, he couldn’t possibly think about what the Master had done to his soon to be lover. He casually let his eyes roam the body before him, wandering freely over the strong arms, the smooth chest and flat stomach. While admiring perfection, he also catalogued any bruises he saw along the way. There weren’t as many as he'd feared there would be, but there were still more than he would've liked.

For someone so skinny, the Doctor was no slouch when it came to muscles. Apparently, despite desperately needing to eat more, he still got enough exercise in to ensure any lack of fat was replaced with delicious looking muscles. Jack licked his lips. He'd fantasized so long about this, about being allowed to trail his tongue over inch and inch of exposed skin, and now, it would seem as if he was going to get his wish.

He closed his eyes briefly before opening again. The scenery hadn't change. No dream then. Good. He sat down on the edge of the bed, placing his hand on the Doctor's body. He allowed the heat of the man's skin to seep into his palm before he started to trace weird patterns on his skin.

Their eyes met. The Doctor's brown eyes were awash with emotions Jack couldn’t decipher. He didn’t need to ask if what he was doing was all right since the doctor's dick was slowly swelling. Clearly he was into what was about to happen.

Jack swallowed hard. There was still a huge part of him which couldn’t believe this was happening. Any moment now, someone was going to enter the room and burst his bubble. Hell, if an alien invasion would start right about now, Earth could go to hell. Nothing, and no one, was going to interrupt this moment until Jack had milked it for all its worth. Every possible pun you could image was totally intended too!

Jack leaned forward. At first, it would seem as if he would have to go all the way, but then, the Doctor lifted his head meeting him half way for a chaste kiss. Their lips had barely met when Jack pulled back again, searching the Doctor's face. He saw nothing but longing and curiosity there. He took this as approval to amp the whole thing up a notch. He removed his hand from the Doctor's hips, using it to push him back down until he was flat on his back. Then, he scooted closer, leaning half way across him so he could devour his mouth. At first, the Doctor seemed oddly reluctant, as if he'd never been kissed like this before. Then, he got into it, starting something which could only be described as a competition of sorts. Who would be able to explore the other man's mouth first? Who would be allowed to freely plunge their tongue into…?

His thoughts dispersed, like glass being shattered. The Doctor had latched onto his neck. He sucked on the skin, and Jack practically melted on the spot.

"Ungh," he groaned, his eyes close to fluttering shut. It took great will power to pull away. Kissing was great, near perfection even with the Doctor, but there were many more things he wanted to explore.

He moved until his thighs were on each side of the Doctor's hips, boxing him in. He grinned wickedly as he followed the Doctor's gaze to his cock.

"Like what you see?" Jack teased, licking his lips suggestively.

The Doctor gave him a blank stare. Could be because he found Jack exasperating, or it could be because Jack had short circuited his brain. Jack's ego firmly voted for option number two.

What happened next, despite Jack's best efforts, would forever be shrouded in haze. Their bodies joined, moving in tandem as if they'd done so since the creation of time. Everything matched perfectly, speed for speed, thrust for thrust, until both of them were completely spent.

"I think the Master might've been right," the Doctor slowly said, his voice barely audible. Jack to strain his ears to pick up the words. "My heart is already taken. And I didn’t even notice.

"Oh?"

"Yes," the Doctor replied. "By you."

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry the last part took so long. If you want to check out more of my stories, you can google Anna Marie May or check out what I have on AO3. Take care!


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